Envenom
by syrai
Summary: Darkfic challenge . Full summary and explanation inside! ...mainly Faith, plus original characters...
1. broken

**Title: BROKEN**

**Author:** charmingsyrai aka syrai

**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer

**Series:** Envenom

**Characters:** Faith

**Prompt:** #34 broken for 50darkfics at livejournal.

**Rating: **PG-13(? someone tell me, dammit)

**Warnings:** bad language

**Word count:** about 965

**Summary:** Inside her mind, it's a fucking jungle. Faith after the events of 'Who are you'

**EXPLANATION: **Ohkay, so, figured I could explain a few things just so that the readers aren't totally confused. This fic is part of Envenom series - Envenom is a series of mine that deals with the actual characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer from season 1 to 7 and beyond, but in addition to that, it includes a bunch of original characters. Every part of the series will be posted as a new chapter instead of separate fictions. Since we have 100 prompts to use, which means every fic has to at least suggest the said prompt, the chapters will be named after the prompts instead of the fic titles.

The whole series got started as a challenge by **saint's hands** (user id: 371583) when she asked me to write 50 dark buffy related fics for 50 darkfics at livejournal . com with her... we're aiming for 100 ficcies here.So, Envenom is very closely connected to her 'Turning blue' series (which can be found from her livejournal where she goes by as _lilhobbit _or here in ff net as **saint's hands** (user id: 371583) as both of the series take place in the same buffyverse. This buffyverse, however, is slightly different from the real buffyverse of the show and so some slight changes and modifications are there to be seen. (Read lilhobbit's 'Prologue aka 'punishment'' and it'll be clear to you, I'm sure) The events that take place in her ficcies do have some influence on the events taking place in mine,so it would be best to read her lil series too.

So, every fic in Envenom series is connected to each other (and to 'Turning Blue') and the story continues prompt by prompt - meaning that this fic's plotline will be continued in another prompt, but the fics are posted in the order they were written - you just have to use your brain a little to figure out the right order, is all. The right timeline can, as said, be found in our journals' memories if you're interested.

**BROKEN**

Inside her mind, it's a fucking jungle.

She doesn't know what to make of it, which thought to grab, which to abandon. It's a jungle of messy, random thoughts that circle around her mind keeping her awake even when she'd like to close her eyes and sleep for an hour or two.

Did she really do all those things?

What the fuck was she thinking?

_Why did you go back?_ She doesn't know.

_Why didn't you get on that fucking plane and leave?_ She can't answer that.

_Get over it,_ she tells herself.

_Get over it._

But she can't and she can't understand why.

She sits in the corner of the dark carriage, back against the wall, holding her stomach and trying to block the smell of hay out of her nostrils. She breaths in and flinches as the pain stabs her side again reminding of its existence. She's pretty sure couple of her ribs are broken, but she's confident they'll heal soon, so no biggie. Being a vampire slayer does have it's advantages and it's not like she's never been worse, so. The creepy smile meets her lips as she remembers all the times she's been beaten into the kind of condition that it's been hard for some to tell if she was a girl or a thing. Things could be worse. She could've been stabbed. As if that has never happened before.

She snorts, which doesn't turn out to be such a smart thing to do. The pain stabs again and she has to stop breathing for a moment to make it go away.

It hurts, it always hurts after a fight like that but now it's different. She's not sure why, though, but it is and she hates it. Maybe because this time even her mind is screaming, yelling, yelping… suffering. Usually she feels the excitement of a good fight pumping through her veins, but now… She's lost everything, hasn't she? There's nothing left… her stomach makes a noise.

Yet, in spite of the pain, hunger pushes through. Not that she hasn't gotten used to going without food for days, but it doesn't mean she likes it. She doesn't like feeling the hunger. It reminds her of past things; memories she doesn't want to have.

She remembers now.

_Fuck the hunger, you're better than that, stronger than that_, she thinks to herself suddenly. Everything seems so meaningless somehow now that she's alone again. Seriously, hunger; it should be the last of her problems at the moment. Being hunted by a fucking council of watchers trying to put her out of her misery as they see it and the cops tailing her… that should be her priority. Still, it isn't.

Partly because she's hungry, sure, but mostly because she doesn't know what to do with herself now.

The pained, cynical laugh bubbles in her throat. It's just so fucking typical. She had someone who looked after her, who fed her and made sure she was being treated right. It didn't matter why he did, only that he did. He gave her these beautiful presents and he looked at her as if she was something more than just a girl, as if she was a true warrior. And right there and then, her life had a meaning. It was never about good and evil, it was never about sides. Frankly, she didn't give a fuck on whose side she was. As long as she was accepted, respected, cared for…

As long as she was on _someone's _side and someone on hers, you know? She misses that.

Faith, she blames B.

For a moment, she wasn't sure. She felt lost. But now, after thinking about it some more, it's all much clearer again.

She blames her, oh yes, she does.

Without Buffy, she wouldn't be here right now. No, no, she wouldn't. Without B, she wouldn't have been put into coma only to wake up months later to a new kind of world. Without B, she wouldn't have been humiliated by Angel and his stupid little slayer. Without B, hell, she wouldn't even be a slayer. If she hadn't gone and died and woken up Kendra… and gotten her killed too, she wouldn't be here. So, long story short, it's all on B's shoulders.

Why is she the only one who can see that?

She tries to relax her muscles to keep the pain subsided, but it's not really working.

Faith can't help but think that even though it's all technically B's fault and that she should be punished, she's still kind of glad. Glad that she got her powers. She actually likes being a slayer. So, she's not the slayer, but she's something else. The rogue one, the bad one. The different one, the rebellious one, the fucking hot one. She likes it, because it makes her different.

B could never understand that. No, to B being a - the slayer is a curse. _Stupid little fuck._ What does she know about life anyway? She's got a mom, a gang of friends, a father-figure… fuck, she's even got a father. That's how it's always been with her and Faith feels the familiar twinge of jealousy cutting her insides. She's got everything and everyone. B, she can make mistakes but she's always forgiven because they love her.

It's all because they fucking love her.

_Well, screw them_. Faith knows what she wants. A cheeseburger, to begin with and revenge after that. Best served cold, right? A cool dessert to go with the burger. The slayer will go down; she will make sure of it.

They say payback is a bitch and Faith, she's always believed in it. The time will come, eventually, and until that, she'll just do what she does best.

_Want. Take. Have._

-fin.


	2. coffin

**Title: YOU'RE MADE OF MY SIN**

**Author:** charmingsyrai aka syrai

**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer

**Series:** Envenom

**Characters:** original characters

**Timeline:** Post Chosen

**Prompt:** #14 coffin/buried for 50darkfics at livejournal . com

**Rating:** R (I'm so not good with these)

**Warnings:** bad language, sexual references

**Word count:** about 3500

**Summary: **waking up in a coffin, realizing you've been buried alive, well… it isn't what one might call pleasant that's for sure and Rhian ain't that fond of it either…

**Author's Notes:** ... I feel the need to note that the vampires in this buffyverse aren't exactly what they were in the 'real' buffyverse, not anymore anyway, but the changes are explained by my partner in crime (that'd be lilhobbit) in her fic "prologue" that can be found from her journal for now.

About this ficcie, the tenses keep changing in this lil ficcie, but it's actually thought out and it's meant to be so. Try and keep up.

The title of the fic was inspired by VAST's "pretty when you cry" - beautiful, beautiful, beautiful song. Oh btw, here's how I keep picturing Rhian looks -- a picture of Stiles with such pretty hair.

Woah, some long A/N there. Sorry.

**YOU'RE MADE OF MY SIN**

When she woke up, all she could see was darkness. She blinked a few times trying to give her eyes some time to adjust, trying to remember on whose bed had she ended up this time, but nothing happened. The darkness stayed, no memories surfaced. At first she didn't dare to move in fear of waking up someone who might have been sleeping in the same room with her, possibly in the bed next to her… but… it didn't feel like a bed, it didn't feel like a room. She was lying on something that felt hard against her back even though it had been covered with some fabric. Plus, she knew she was wearing some strange clothes that couldn't possibly be hers. Too soft and they smelled simply too fresh.

Then, she tried moving, but realized it was almost impossible as her hands hit a solid wall just like her head and legs did. It was no room; rooms weren't this small.

She wanted to scream, but couldn't. She was too afraid to do anything at all.

This was how it had happened.

This was how she had woken up in a coffin six feet under; alone with only darkness and the smell of soil around her. She could hear something, but she didn't know what it was. It sounded like something was crawling nearby, too near. Too loudly. When it had happened, she had had no idea what it was about. She had no idea what the smell was, what the noises were. Later, much later, she learnt they were worms.

And so, she had panicked. Her fists had started frantically hitting the wooden material above her searching for a way out. A salvation, air, whatever. She had needed to get out, she had needed to breathe. At least, that's what she thought at the time. If she had stopped, even for a moment to think about the situation better, she would've noticed that even when she took a deep breath, the air didn't reach her lungs. She had thought she was suffocating when in fact, she didn't even need the air around her anymore.

When her knuckles gave in to the pain and opened up; bled, that's when the tears flooded down. Some girls, they were able to keep their composure while crying; they managed to look cute and adorable with their little tissues and occasional sniffs and snobs. This girl, she was definitely not one of them; never had been. She howled and whimpered, she yelled and begged for someone to come and help her, but no one came. If someone had seen her, they would've frowned and called her pathetic. Which, of course, would've been very correct. She had, however, learnt to live with that.

She couldn't feel her fingers anymore, but still her crying got louder. Or maybe it got louder because she couldn't feel the pain anymore. She was going to die, wasn't she? Here. In the dark. Alone. She was going to die and no one would find her. Ever.

No one would miss her.

After God knows how long, her fists finally broke through the wood and a handful of something fell on her face surprising her. She didn't stop to spit it out of her mouth, not even after she recognized it to be dirt. It was all over her, it hurt in her eyes; crawled down her throat, but she ignored it. Instead, she kept pushing through the substance her hands had encountered; kept clawing her way out of her frightening trap.

Maybe she could save herself. _I don't ask a lot from you… but for just this once_, she prayed in her mind, _let me save myself. Let me save myself._

When her hand had met the air, that was when her brain had finally agreed to register the fact she had indeed been under ground. That was when she had understood she had been buried alive. What kind of sick fuck would do something like that?

_Why me? Why the fuck me?_

She yelped when a hand unexpectedly grabbed hers; someone's cold fingers locked themselves around hers and a minute later, she could feel her body being pulled upwards. She didn't resist and just like that she was pulled through the ground, freed from the damned pitfall and violently thrown on the grass. Her stomach hit the ground and a whimper parted her lips as her chin hit a small stone hidden in the grass. She didn't move, but only kept panting trying to fill her lungs with sweet air. It was a reflex driven by her mind, not by need.

She didn't have to look around to know they were in a graveyard, she could feel it, smell it. If she had looked up, she would've noticed the stone at the end of the opened grave next to her. It had her name on it. But since she didn't look up, she missed it.

"So nice of you to finally wake up, Rhian," someone's low, husky voice spoke and even though she had known someone was there; her mystery rescuer, she was startled by the voice. It sounded so… frustrated, so angry as if she had done something wrong and she hated that. When her mother had been angry at her, she had always been punished. Always. That was why she had left. She hated when people were angry at her. She couldn't deal with it, she didn't want to.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" The voice spoke again, but now it sounded more amused than angry and this time Rhian responded. She propped her upper body from the ground but only to turn around to look at the figure behind her. The figure, it turned out to be a man… or a boy depending on how you looked at it… male, she decided, as the voice had very clearly suggested. Standing there, illuminated by the street lamp next to them, he looked tall, but she figured it was because she was still sitting on the wet grass. He was wearing jeans that looked to be about ready to fall apart and a metallica T-shirt that at least told her he had a good taste in music. Unless he was one of those that only bought shirts they thought looked cool not giving a second thought to the message the piece of clothing was trying to send. She hated those people and weirdly, she found herself wishing he wasn't one of them.

He didn't say anything more and she took it as a chance to observe her rescuer. It stroke her from nowhere that this man, he looked insanely beautiful just standing there, looking at her. If you didn't count the clothing, there was something very unusual about him that she couldn't quite pinpoint and didn't even try to. Well, he did have the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen; they were turquoise. At least that was how she would've described them if someone had asked. His eyes had been bordered with black eyeliner, which looked weird to her, but she didn't mention it. She had never been one to crush on guys wearing make-up, but she had to admit, it looked rather hot on him, actually. Then there was his hair. Or the lack of it, as she would've put it. His hair was so short it almost looked like he was bald, but she liked it.

She liked everything about him. _What's up with you?_ It just wasn't natural and she knew it.

He didn't seem to mind her eyes roaming around his body. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it. After a while though, he broke the silence once again. "You're awfully quiet today," he started, "Weird, really. You weren't this shy just a few days ago."

A few days ago? Rhian frowned looking away from the man. Usually she would have never taken her eyes off of a possible enemy, but strangely, she felt… she felt safe. She felt warm, which she usually never did. She never felt safe. Even when she had been a little girl, even when she had had her father there to protect her, she had never felt safe. Safety was nothing but an illusion and she was very well aware of that.

_Shit._ What had happened a few days ago? Why couldn't she remember? What the fuck was going on?

_This,_ she figured, _must be the most bizarre moment of my life._

"Get up."

She obeyed hesitating, not knowing what else to do. At least she attempted to, but when she tried to gathered her bones up from the ground to stand on her own two feet, her body seemed to disagree. Her knees gave in and she fell back on the ground. Hard.

He hadn't tried to catch her, but he did offer her a helping hand now that she was sitting on the ground, trying not to think of the bruise her ass would have tomorrow. "You're weak," he said as she extended her own hand to take his, "You need to get fed."

She didn't know what that meant exactly, but she didn't ask either. As if she had weighted nothing, he pulled her up again but didn't let go of her hand as she had thought he would. The fingers intertwined with hers so firmly that she thought it best not to try and remove her hand from his. She had once read that you never told a crazy person he or she was crazy or annoy them anyway, and she was sure the method could be used here too. She half expected he'd start walking and she was prepared to follow, but he didn't move anywhere and so the two just stood there facing each other.

He tilted his head, observing her face. He brought his free hand to touch the side of her face and trailed a stain of dirt on her cheek with his finger. It was such a gentle touch that she could hardly keep herself from closing her eyes and moaning. She swallowed, hard, trying to focus on something else but his hypnotizing eyes. Why did she enjoy his touch like this?

"You really don't remember what happened, do you?"

Rhian shook her head weakly. No matter how she tried to organize her thoughts and memories, they all seemed to slip away. Yesterday was nothing but a blur in her mind.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He asked then. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words refused to come out. She didn't know; what was the last thing she remembered? She… she really wasn't sure. She had been working, perhaps… just the thought of her assumed work made her blush in shame and look away. He, however, refused to let go of her gaze and calmly grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him.

_Eyes on me,_ his mind screamed words she couldn't hear, _always on me._

"What is the last thing you remember, Rhian?" He demanded again and her whole body knew he wanted an answer and that she would have to give it. That she'd get hurt if she didn't. That she'd regret.

"I don't know… I don't remember," she whispered trying to squirm her chin out of his grip. She did succeed, but only because his fingers moved to push a lock of blond hair from her face before they forcefully grabbed her chin again. He knew it hurt her, but the knowledge only pleased him. When the brown eyes met the turquoise ones, she closed her eyes in protest. He didn't like it, but he didn't tell her to open her eyes. Later. He'd do it later.

"That's not what I asked, Rhian. What do you remember?"

"I was working…" she whispered quietly. She didn't want to say it, but she had to. He gave her no other options. "With the other girls… we waited."

"Yes," he confirmed with a faint smile on his lips. It was almost insane how he enjoyed watching her struggle like this. Funny thing was though, that it wasn't really a struggle against him, but against herself. Although he wasn't sure what had caused this weird inner struggle of hers or even what it was about, it was entertaining. Her eyes were still closed, but he could sense her uneasiness. It seemed her mind and body was responding to his presence and she didn't really like it.

"You were working. Standing there, waiting for some asshole to pull over and pick you up. Waiting to get fucked by some total stranger who could carry every fucking disease on this damned Earth. Waiting to get paid." His voice was so cold, so judging that she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to defend herself and tell him she had no choice. She only did it for the money. She was a human being for fuck's sake and she needed to eat!

Now she was starting to get angry. She had never felt the need to defend her actions no matter what they were, not to anyone! Fuck, he had no rights to make her feel like this!

"And what happened then, Rhian? What happened then?" He pulled her closer, so close that she could almost feel his nose touching her skin. The hand that had been holding hers just a moment ago wrapped itself around her waist making sure she couldn't move and the grip on her chin got tighter. She recognized the gesture; he was telling her to open her eyes. It felt familiar somehow and she couldn't tell why.

"I don't know!" she spat angrily through gritted teeth. Then, to his surprise, she did the unexpected; she blinked her eyes open, grabbed his hand and forced his fingers to leave her chin. She smacked her hands against his chest and pushed him with all the force she could gather. It wasn't much, though and he, of course, didn't even budge. But the fact she had tried it, excited him even more. Oh, his little slayer, she was spirited one.

He knew she was a slayer. The kind that possessed a great deal of potential to be a great one; strong one. He had tasted it in her blood… and nothing, absolutely nothing had never tasted better. Maybe that was why he had come back for her even after he had decided he wouldn't. Maybe that was why he had sat there on her grave for hours and hours just listening, waiting.

"Maybe I should remind you then," he said finally. She saw him smirk and that was the first time she paid any attention to his teeth. They looked weird to her, but she had no time to figure out why because he gave her none.

She hadn't expect him to grab her hair and pull her head back; attack her neck like that nor had she expected to feel her skin being pierced painfully by his sharp teeth. And she for sure, had not expected what happened after that. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself, gasping, and her eyes fluttered shut.

The memories flooded back like a waterfall washing through. She remembered how the white limousine had pulled over, how the dark window had opened and how she had been asked to get in the car. She remembered she had thought about saying no simply because it was so strange to see a car like that there… but then her mind had stopped her. A car like that meant money. And money, that was what she was after.

"Me?" She had asked, surprised, and the voice… his voice had answered. Yes, you.

And so, Rhian had done as she was asked to.

She remembered how he had smelled so fresh, so different from the guys that usually picked her up and glad she had felt. She remembered how he had had those same clothes and how he had not said a word to her, not a single explanation as to why he was there and what he wanted. They always wanted something, they always had demands, fantasies to be fulfilled. But this one, the minute she had sat down and closed the door behind her, he had immediately pulled her on his lap and captured her lips in a crushing, bruising kiss. She had tasted the blood.

Apparently, so had he, for he had paused only to watch how the blood reached her chin before he licked it off.

"A slayer," she had heard him whisper in what seemed to be somewhat amazed tone, but she hadn't stopped to wonder what it meant. She had learnt not to ask. So, she had only continued the kiss while opening his belt. His cold hands had wandered around her hot body making her shiver and she remembered how heavenly it had felt. She had lost herself in his hands, she had…

Oh god, oh god. He hadn't even removed her clothes - or his. He had rolled her skirt up onto her waist, pushed her panties aside and lifted her up and... She could still remember exactly how he had felt against her, inside her… like he had belonged, like she had belonged.

Oh god, that wasn't supposed to happen! That was never supposed to happen. Ever.

Something had changed. Something was different. She was different, wasn't she? Her eyes blinked open. "We had sex," she stated, horrified… disgusted. He didn't like the tone of her voice and if he had had time, he would've corrected that little error. But he had none, as she kept talking. "We had sex in that fucking car," she screamed, "and then you bit me! You bit me right-"

"Here," he finished the sentence for her maliciously, licking the very spot where his red mark could be seen. He had bitten her again, she realized. He had, well, sucked her blood. Again! He had… the realization dawned upon her, but her mind couldn't accept it. Life is not a fairytale, Rhian.

"You-"

"I changed you, yes," he cut in, lips still against her neck. "I changed you and now you're mine."

"Yours?" She barked mockingly. Oh, not a chance. She would be no one's, especially not his and there was a reason for that. "I think not. You used me, bit me, made me drink your fucking blood, turned me into some goddamn…. Creature… and then! THEN, you threw me out of a moving car! Fuck you!" she yelled, "You didn't even pay, asshole!"

He chuckled both at the image her words brought to his mind and the way she yelled. He'd have so much fun with her, so much fun. Rhian had such a temper… Ah, yes, that he had done and it must have hurt like hell too, especially when she had been kicked out of the car and slammed against the asphalt… but she was obviously missing the point. "Yes, well, I did what I had to. They needed to declare you dead, not missing. But I came back for you, my little slayer."

She couldn't believe her ears. Unbelievable, fucking unbelievable. Rhian was not only stunned, but insulted and extremely furious too... still, she couldn't bring herself to push him away. She wanted to, but couldn't and so, her hands were still on his shoulders, not that she would've noticed it or the fact her nails were, even through the shirt, pretty painfully digging into his flesh. She was angry, because she needed him. Because she wanted him... and because he knew it. He knew it.

And that; that was the moment she had simply started to give up, bent to his will.

She would never be completely his, that much she had decided, but she knew that he had already taken something, a piece of her... and just because of that she would not be whole without him. Little girls dreamt of princes on white horses. She had once seen that same dream and now, now she was thinking that maybe; maybe this was her prince. Maybe the limousine had been his white horse. _Life isn't a fairytale..._ No, life most definitely wasn't. It was painful, and it hurt, but maybe it had decided to pay her back... maybe it had decided to give her this. Why not take it?

Yeah, why not take it?

"That's right, my little slayer, just give up and be mine."

Give up... be yours? _Slayer?_ He had called her that before, hadn't he? "Why do you call me that?" She asked calmly, not having the energy to fight anymore. Resting against his body, she wondered, why fight when she didn't really even want to? There was nothing worth fighting for in her life, but he could... maybe he could change that.

"I can give you the whole world," he said as if he had been reading her mind through it all, "all you have to do is accept it, my little slayer."

"Why do you call me that?" she asked again, "Who are you?"

He only smiled against her neck. He'd tell her. But not yet. Later. Much... _much_ later.

-fin


	3. masterpiece

**Title:** FOREVER IN A WORD  
**Author:** **charmingsyrai**  
**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Series:** Envenom  
**Timeline:** post Chosen  
takes place after YOU'RE MADE OF MY SIN  
**Characters:** original characters  
**Prompt:** #63 masterpiece  
**Rating:** R (I dunno, i'm not good with these)  
**Warnings:** bad language and some sexual stuff  
**Word count:** about 1565  
**Status:** -fin as in finished  
**Table of prompts** here  
**Summary:** sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night just to look at her, to hear her breathing.

**Author's Notes:** Nothing much to tell. This is just to show you a lil glimpse of their relationship. Oh btw, the prompt _'blood'_ will be this one's direct sequel - unless F will put up a fight and demand to get that particular prompt for herself... -- she didn't. Sequel is here grins

Anyway. READ **lilhobbit**'s PROLOGUE because it explains why the vampires changed after 'Chosen' (and more accurately, after Angel's finale "Not Fade Away") :) It's important piece so go, now. Plus, it's really good so you don't want to miss it. Duh.

**FOREVER IN A WORD**

Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night just to look at her, to hear her breathing. He's told her multiple times that it's really unnecessary for her to inhale and exhale, especially when it usually gives the enemy a hint of her whereabouts, but she still keeps doing it. Even in the battles. She always says she can't help it, that it's something her body takes care of in auto-mode.

Sometimes he wakes up just to make sure she's there, that she's not some dream he had. He's dealt with many unpleasant situations and surprises in his life, way too many to count, but that one is something he doesn't even want to consider. Finnegan, the vampire's closest friend, always tells him he should ditch the made vampire and their "thing" - according to Finn, it - she is his only weakness and as long as he'll have her around, he'll be in danger. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that it means his lover is in danger too and that it's all his fault. He doesn't want her to get hurt, never… but still, he can't let her go. He needs her too much.

She's lying in the bed on her stomach, cheek against the pillow and hands somewhere hidden underneath it. There's a bruise on her bare shoulder, caused by their little argument last night and he wonders why it hasn't healed yet. She told him that she had fed just a few days ago, but the bruise tells differently. If she had drank, the wound would no longer be there. He would have to mention that again tomorrow. She'd yell, she'd scream and eventually, she'd hit and kick too but in the end, she would drink. Even if it meant he would have to force the blood down her throat like so many times before. All he knew was that he'd win. He always did.

To think of it, she had lost their fight yesterday way too easily even though she had been mad as hell for a reason he could no longer remember. It had something to do with the fact he had killed the people staying in the motel room next to theirs. She had been mad because it would endanger their location or something like that. All he really could remember was the thrilling smell of her getting wet. Yes, it had taken less than a couple of minutes to pin her down after she had thrown that damned phone at his head. Even less to remove her clothing. Granted, she had fought first, but really, the struggle always made it more exciting. For both of them. No matter how she tried to resist and fight him off, telling she was not in the mood and would not be, he always found a way to wake her body up; to make her aroused. She hated it as much as she loved it and he took pleasure in knowing it. A simple look, touch or a few words and he had her. Always.

She had whined afterwards to let him know she was still mad, told him that while she did enjoy the rough stuff as much as he did, chains and shackles and what not, it would've been polite of him to at least carry her into the bed. The floor, she had said while still lying on the floor and simply watching how he got dressed, was too dirty for her liking. Now, they both knew that wasn't it - no, it was about what she had once been. A prostitute. She never said the word and when someone else did, he could feel the way her body tensed. She hated that word with all her passion. But it was true, it was what she had been and having sex on dirty floor was something that made her remember those days.

She, his little slayer, his little masterpiece, she deserved so much more.

So, after fastening his belt and buttoning his brown shirt, he had walked to her and scooped her up into his arms without much gentleness or kindness. But after placing her in the bed and tucking her in, he had kissed her forehead apologizing.

Careful not to wake her up, he brushes the hair off her face to reveal a gentle lines of her nose and chin. Her eyelids are closed but all he has to do is close his eyes to see their perfect color of brown. He's never seen anything so beautiful as her eyes in his whole life; nothing as beautiful as she is. Gently, very gently, he strokes her cheek receiving a few mumbling words, but nothing more. For a vampire, she sure is a heavy-sleeper no matter what the time is, but that's something he loves about her. Her ability to get lost in her own little world and shut everything else, everyone else out. He envies her for that. He's never been so good with imagining things.

She mumbles something again in deep sleep and his fingers stop their movement for a fleeing second. When she all the sudden inches her body closer to his and buries her face into his chest, he can't help but smile.

"Teagan?" She mutters through her dream and he feels overwhelming joy; knowing that even through deep slumber, she still knows it's him, well, it makes the animal in him purr loud and clear.

"I'm here," he whispers into her hair, assuring. "Good… good," she answers. He knows she's half-asleep, not still fully awake and not really aware of her surroundings. This is one of her charming traits, to be able to sleep through anything. Whatever he would say to her now, she'd forget by the time she would wake up. He always teases her about that not wanting to let her know how adorable he finds it. 

Carefully he moves his hand onto her back, caressing the naked skin as his fingers trail lower and lower. Soon enough they meet the blanket covering her lower body, but he doesn't let that stop him. He pushes it aside feeling her shiver against his fingers as the cold air meets the area that had just been protected by the warm, already sweaty blanket. She whimpers aloud when he suddenly squeezes her ass.

"Teagan… stop that. I'm sleeping," she murmurs, annoyed, not even bothering to open her eyes. It's not the first time he decides to disturb her sleep simply because he has nothing better to do. "I'm gonna find someone else to share my bed with if you don't let me sleep."

That hits home. She should know better.

In a blink of an eye she finds herself trapped underneath him, hands above her head, held still by his hard grip. She couldn't move, not even if she tried; his whole, suffocating body weight is upon her now, but she doesn't mind. Her eyes are open, observing the angry face above.

"Don't say that," he murmurs before kissing her roughly, claiming her as his. "Never say that again."

Teagan has never been the kind to be jealous over a girl. Many girls in his past had tried to wake that side of him, but never succeed. He remembers vaguely how those stupid sluts used every possible way to get his attention, to make him fall. Made out with guys in front of him, let it slip how many sex partners they had had and so on. Ultimately, it was always about them trying to make him feel something. He never did.

The _she_ appeared.

She doesn't know what he's thinking, he rarely shares his intimate thoughts with her, but she knows he's serious.

"I'm sorry," she replies kissing the corner of his mouth soothingly, "I won't." His hands leave hers and the minute they do, she wraps them around his neck to make sure he gets that she means it. The cold metal of the dog tag hanging around his neck touches her breasts but she can't be bothered to pay any attention to it.

"You're mine," he says simply leaving no rooms for questions, for hesitations. _You're mine. Mine._

His eyes fascinate her, the way the turquoise seems to change color depending on his current mood. They're cold now, icy. She's seen his eyes look like that before; every time before a kill. But even though she recognizes that, she's not afraid, she never really fears him, but still she's nervous. Nervous by the sudden change of his mood and because she never wants to make him feel bad. But she knows how to correct the error, she knows what she did wrong.

"Yes, yes, I am," she admits nodding. "Always yours, Teagan."

The ice in his eyes melts and he smiles, satisfied by the answer.

"Good," he says, "I'm glad." With that said, he lands one final kiss on her lips before he tells her to let go. Her hands fall down to her sides and without saying more, he rolls off back to his side of the bed. He's tensed, she can sense it and it keeps her from falling back to sleep. She knows something's bothering him and that he will speak soon and so, she just waits in silence.

"Now, Rhian," he says finally staring at the ceiling, "there's something we have to talk about."

-fin


	4. weapon

**Title:** TIME TO BE WHAT YOU NEED ME TO BE  
**Author: ** **charmingsyrai**  
**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Series:** Envenom  
**Timeline:** post Chosen  
takes place after FOREVER IN A WORD  
**Characters:** Faith, original characters  
**Prompt:** #11 weapon  
**Rating:** PG-13 (I dunno, i'm not good with these)  
**Warnings:** bad, bad language  
**Word count:** about 5355  
**Status:** -fin as in finished  
**Table of prompts** here  
**Summary:** The Grey Triad is about to target a reckless vampire girl for assassination because of the sins she's committed against her kinds, but there are people out there desperate to save her.

**Author's Notes:** I have listened nothing but _Vast_ for weeks now - hence the title. It was, surprisingly so, inspired by Vast's "Free" and for that we can all turn our blaming glares at F and smack her really hard with something sharp and pointy. Damned be that lilhobbit. I don't know if this ficcie is boring as hell or what, but I hope not. I rather enjoyed writing it (dude, why is that I love all the males here? Rhys is totally a honey) so I only hope you enjoy as much as I did. Ah, anyway, the story will be continued in another prompt, fear not. This one doesn't really seem that dark, but oh well.

**TIME TO BE WHAT YOU NEED ME TO BE**

The building had seen and survived many wars, battles as well as other sorts of social meetings, but never had it witnessed Rhys being this annoyed. That was probably because he rarely got annoyed and even when he did, no one usually noticed for he was too careful to let his weakness show. His posture was always so calm, so confident that most seemed to believe there was something seriously wrong with him. They said he was a sociopath. Well, other than being a vampire, a killer, and a very ruthless one at that, there really was nothing wrong with him, although some did believe that that was enough… he didn't. Besides being a co-leader of a huge, nicely working organization trying to bring back the old ancient laws of vampires, he was pretty normal with his blond hair and blue eyes. It was all because he had had hundreds of years to practice his patience and with that much time in his hands, he surely had learnt to keep his composure. It only worked for his advantage, though, and so he never complained. Things were much simpler when people feared him.

But now, however, the facade was slowly falling apart; he was extremely and all too clearly annoyed over the top. You could tell by the way he paced around his office room, restless like a predator after smelling his wounded prey nearby. Occasionally he would sit down on his blood red arm-chair and turn to look at the magnificent view of skyscrapers through the big window behind his desk, but after awhile he always got bored and would yet again rise from the chair. After a few deep sighs and rounds around the room, he would sit. Again. And the routine would go on and on and on. It was already three hours since he had hidden himself into his office and no one had dared to disturb him. 

Sitting down again, he sighed, tired eyes staring into the space in front of him. Raking a hand through his blond curls, he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes trying to regain some of his normal calmness failing miserably. He just couldn't stop thinking about it all. Sometimes the fact there was only the tree of them; him, Sweeney and Kai leading the Grey Triad was tiring and took too much of his time that he could've spent so much better. He loved being the one to command others, sure, it was no secret, but having the weight of every little decision on his shoulders was exhausting. Especially now that there was so much to consider about.

Yes, there was a handful of issues to talk through, but he had not seen neither of his partners for two days. Fine, Sweeney had gone to south Africa to deal with some rebellious vampire groups but only after Rhys had bribed her into doing it. But where was Kai?

It was common knowledge that the three of them lead the organization together and therefore made the decisions together too, but that was pretty much all it was. Common knowledge did not always mean it was the truth, as he had noticed. Usually it ended up being his duty to make the final decisions for Sweeney was always too impatient to take part in decision-making and Kai, well, he was Kai. Always having something to say and changing his opinion depending on the situation. Kai, to Rhys, was more like an opportunist than a leader, but Rhys had never felt the need to try and get him kicked out of the council. Mainly because then it would've been just him and Sweeney and that would've meant even more work for him. Plus, neither of the other two vampires wanted to feel the responsibility of the made decision on their shoulders in case something went wrong. Usually it worked fine with Rhys; not having to deal with his loud friends, but during times like these… it just gave him a headache.

First of all, rumors had it that the Anointed one had been brought back to life. Just what the fuck was that about? The Anointed one had been the Master's little puppet, the Messiah of the Order of Aurelius, but he had been killed years ago. What on Earth could the Order want with the little boy now that the Master had been killed by the Sunnydale's infamous slayer? Well, infamous in his eyes. God, Buffy Summers had truly proven to be more of an annoyance than any known slayer before her. His feelings towards the Order weren't really that much warmer. Their only plus was the fact they worshipped the Old Ones, but the way they chose to live their lives in the dark, drafty tunnels, without no luxury of any sort, that was beyond Rhys. The Order was too conservative for the modern world and if they didn't change their ways, Rhys would simply have the Triad demolish the whole lot.

Then there was the whole issue with the raising slayers. It was said the Sunnydale slayer and her friends had been gathering other slayers all over the world ever since the potentials had been granted their powers. They said she was building a goddamned army and who knew what their next move would be? He had never personally faced this little slayer, but he knew from stories and reports that she was not to be underestimated. Many had died by her hand and that was not the kind of fate he planned for himself, but if she truly was building an army somewhere… he would have to find her, lure her out of her cave and tore her insides out. The last part he would do both out of duty and for fun.

As if that wasn't enough, there were the Watchers' Council - or rather, the numerous councils as they had been come to call. Ever since the real council had been destroyed the idiots had had troubles reforming their lines and instead of building a one strong council, they had built many less stronger councils. In addition, they were stupid enough to fight against each other, every one having different opinions about how the current world should have been handled. The vampires weren't hiding anymore, oh no, the world had changed ever since the curse had been lifted. Actually, Rhys wasn't sure what had happened, all he knew was that one day he woke up and realized the sun no longer hurt him. They had been trying to find out what had caused the change, but so far there was no real consensus among the Triad's agents about what had happened. He figured it would forever stay as a mystery.

For now Illuminati had proven to be one of the most annoying councils - they seemed to believe the vampires, demons and humans should simply live in peace. Just thinking about it, made him snort aloud. Just what were they thinking? They had even gone as far as establishing blood banks to offer them an "alternative feeding resource". Ridiculous, abso-fucking-lutely ridiculous. To think that they - _vampires_ - would willingly choose to feed from plastic bags. Well, he had to admit that some actually did seem to prefer that option, but his respect towards those was very low. If you didn't want to hunt, then you should've at least bothered to check yourself into one of the Triad's safehouses where there were willing humans to be fed from. Strangely, it had proven to be a very supplying relationship both for the humans and the vampires alike. The humans got whatever it was they wanted, usually money though, and the vampires got fed without having to hunt anyone down. Besides -he smirked- the humans usually offered other kind of services too and from experience Rhys had to admit; the human girls were pretty damn good in bed. They did practically everything you could possibly ask.

"Rhys?" There was a knock on the door, accompanied by Poppy's delicate voice. "Rhys, you there?"

"Yeah," the vampire answered. "Come in."

The door was opened slowly by a young-looking female vampire, Penelope Lane alias Poppy. She was wearing a pair of black leather pants with a white top that revealed a noticeable amount of her chest - not that there was really that much to show off, but what she had, she carried with pride. The girl had only turned 16 few days before she had been made a vampire, but that had been years ago and so, despite her young looks, the vampire really wasn't a child anymore even though most people did view her that way. It usually only played for her advantage though - no one thought someone as young and angelic as her could kill in cold-blood. But she could, and she did. About a decade ago Poppy had ran into her sire on a street and killed him in a very, very brutal fight. Normally that kind of behavior would've been punished, but at the time Rhys had already taken the girl under his wings and besides, anyone stupid enough to turn a girl who would live rest of her life looking too young to get into decent bars deserved what he got. The next one that had dared to attempt the same, had been punished; Rhys had been sure to make an example out of him. The vampire had reasoned the decision by reminding the others that the man that had tried to kill his sire had been nearly 30 when he had been turned and so it was nowhere near Poppy's case. Sweeney had agreed, probably because she herself had been just above 20 when she had been turned, whereas Kai had been against it. In the end he had given up, as usual, and sulked for two days.

"What now?" He questioned after she had closed the door behind her, knowing it had to be something bad. Poppy looked too nervous for her news to be good. He sighed tiredly. His work was apparently never done - if things kept their current pace he'd never get home. Well, of course, that depended how you defined home. In one sense of the word he already was home as he lived in the same building in which his office was situated, just like many other Triad members did - with the obvious difference that his suite covered the whole top floor. The only minus was that the flat was shared with Sweeney and Kai, but since they all had their own separate bedrooms, it wasn't that bad. And hey, the view was definitely worth it.

Poppy walked to the oak desk and dropped a thick file on it. "It's about that rogue slayer, Rhian Fielding."

He had already reached out to grab the light brown file, but hearing the name, he retreated lying back on the chair. "Ah, Teagan Cain's little rebel then."

She nodded in confirmation. "Yes."

Letting out a bitter laugh, he locked his fingers together and asked: "What has she done now?"

"The usual," Poppy replied rolling her eyes slightly. "Attacked a safehouse, all alone might I add and killed three vampires while they were… " she paused, clearing her throat. Obviously she wasn't sure what to say, but in the end, she settled down with the most proper choice, "feeding, I'd assume. Killed the humans too."

His eyebrow rose into a question. "Why the fuck would she kill the humans?" Now, now, that was unheard of. Rhian Fielding had surely caused a lot of trouble during the passed months but killing humans, unless they were criminals or otherwise very deep in the vampire world, was something she didn't do.

"Who really knows?" Poppy shrugged in respond, "She's insane. Maybe she thought they deserved to die since they were associating with the vampires?" It was somewhat obvious Poppy felt nothing against the rebellious vampire and as much as Rhys hated to admit it, he in fact was a little taken by the way she handled herself. It had been three months since she had left Teagan's side and in that time she had managed to kill dozens of his vampires and even demons. It was frustrating, really. If only Teagan had made her a member of the Triad instead of dragging her along from one mission to another. At first the vampire had kept her existence a secret, but after a few months, the Triad had found out. Rhys knew he had always been too gentle with Teagan - he should've demanded him to bring her in. She knew too much about the Triad to be left uncontrolled so it was either to bring her in or kill her. At that time Teagan would've killed anyone brave enough to get too close to his lover, but things had changed… Rhys couldn't help but wonder… where did he stand now? On whose side was he?

"God," he grumbled, "why couldn't Teagan just keep her in a short leash, you know? All this trouble could've been avoided if he had only spanked her once or twice."

At that Poppy snorted cynically. Sometimes Rhys clearly had no idea what he was talking about. "With all respect towards your friend, Rhys, I think he did spank her once or twice - that's not the issue, though, I'm pretty sure she enjoyed that bit of their game." For whatever reason, he noticed she sounded a little too hostile before she managed to bring her tone back to normal, "The problem is that he should've gone after her when she took off and that's really it."

He considered her words for a moment and came to the conclusion that she was probably right. Well, she was a girl after all and probably knew better how the mind of another female worked. Seriously, what did he know about ladies anyway? He fucked them and he bit them and that was pretty much all the social contact he had with them. It was all his work permitted him to do - he simply didn't have time for relationships, he didn't need one. He didn't want one. At least that's what he had been telling himself for years now. He was just fine without one. Period.

"Yes, maybe," he agreed finally, "So what do you think we should do about this?"

Poppy hesitated obviously not understanding what it was that he wanted from her…Was it a test of some kind? "Me? I'm in no position to tell-"

"Drop that," Rhys interrupted bluntly dismissing her words with a wave of hand, "I'm only asking your opinion. There's a good chance you'll be on the Triad council one of these days and I'd like you to be prepared. So, tell me."

Hearing that made her insides tickle. Being on the council, that was something she had been dreaming about ever since she had met Rhys nearly 20 years ago. Taking few minutes to think about the situation better, she figured it would be best to let the source of the problem to actually handle the problem. The whole deal was yelling Teagan's name loud and clear. "Well, I do like Teagan..." A lie and they both knew it, "but since business is business… the girl, she has to be eliminated… Or," her tone suddenly changed and she smirked mischievously, "brought in."

The idea was rewarded by Rhys' agreeing smile. "Yes, that's what I figured. About elimination, using Finnegan is out of question, he's too close to Teagan."

"You think Teagan would try and stop him?" Poppy questioned. She knew Teagan, but wasn't really as close to him as Finnegan or Rhys. She had never liked him that much and couldn't understand why every other girl in the Triad did. It had to be his looks, there was no other option for his fame. It definitely wasn't his personality that drew them in for he was mean and rude and all that. The girls he had dated, or rather, used had told nothing but horror stories about the cold assassin who had kicked them out of his bed after the shared time telling them to either get lost or get thrown out. Well, technically, he wasn't an assassin anymore as he had chosen to switch his job description, but Poppy was sure that in his heart, he would probably always be one.

"Truthfully, I don't know," Rhys replied pensively pulling Poppy from her thoughts, "Teagan has been a little problematic lately. I'd like to trust him, I would, but I fear his connection to the girl is a little too deep."

Was he talking about love? Poppy's nose wrinkled at the thought almost as if in disgust. There was nothing wrong with love, but… she just didn't think Teagan Cain was able to feel such things as love. And even if he was, would he really put his lover before the Triad, before his family? That was something Poppy would never understand, how someone could abandon the people that had taken him in and turn his back on them.

"Maybe," she agreed, "but you might want to consider the alternative. Maybe she really should be brought to custody. I think Teagan is the right one to bring her in, to get her to join. If she says no, then by all means, kill her."

That had crossed his mind during their conversation, but Rhys, however, saw one flaw in it. "And what if Teagan chooses to help her if she says no? We've been tracking this little slayer for months now and she always finds a way to disappear from our radar. Imagine what would happen if she had Teagan to help her out. That girl is a fucking human weapon… well, vampire now. But you get the point."

Oh, Poppy was very well aware of that; her jaw clenched in suppressed anger. She knew the situation with Rhian a little too well - it was her who had been assigned to organize the little bitch's search. So far she had done pretty good job tailing her every move, but yet it seemed no matter what they tried, no matter what sources they used, they were always one step behind her. She was always one step behind her. Other than being highly annoying and frustrating, it also looked bad on her records and that was something Poppy couldn't stand. The girl would have to be dealt with. Now. Poppy didn't really care how or by whom, as long as it was done fast and efficiently. If that girl was to be found by the other slayers… that could've wreaked some serious havoc. She didn't even want to think about the consequences of that encounter - things were bad enough as they were.

"Yes, I know… Teagan taught her too well and that's why logically thinking, Teagan is the one who could find her. Send someone with him. He can't jump when he's got company loyal to us."

Rhys was silent for a few minutes, which told Poppy he was seriously considering her suggestion. She was more than glad, not only because he had taken her word seriously, but because… she wasn't quite sure why. Just the fact Rhys seemed to be approving her words made her head feel lighter.

"You're right," he said flashing her a wide smile, revealing the perfect pair of sharp fangs. Her own smile grew even bigger seeing his happy expression. "Page him… and page Finnegan and Rufus while at it. And Cloey - maybe she'll be able to keep the lot controlled."

Ah, Cloey. Poppy had always considered the colorful vampire to be one of her closest friends, but it had been practically forever since they had last met… or at least few months. She had been shipped off to some mission somewhere around east Europe but that was all Poppy knew. It would be so great to see her again and exchange the latest rumors! God, she actually did miss that girl more than she had thought.

"Right away," she replied nodding eager to comply and eyes shining brighter than ever. Her hand was already at the handle, when Rhys' voice suddenly stopped her. She glanced over her shoulder when her name was called for the second time.

"Good thinking," he said simply, looking at her with this weird expression in his eyes. She didn't know what it meant, but she assumed it was good and therefore, didn't bother analyzing it further.

"You've proven to be very useful, Penelope Lane."

She only nodded a thank you for before exiting the room.

0000

Faith was restless.

Life on the road had always been her ideal way of living, even now, after everything. She wasn't sure why, maybe because she had gotten used to it and for a long time, it had been the only constant thing in her life. No one stayed, the rooms in which she stayed changed, the people with whom she hang, but the way she lived was always the same. All she needed was her sailor bag with the little stuff she owned and that was that. Maybe she should've wanted a nice little house in some dull suburb area or something and for a little while, she had pretended she did. For Robin's sake… but the truth was, she really didn't want any of that. B of course seemed to think that having a normal, stationary life was naturally what Faith would want, just because she had had such _unbalanced_ and not to mention _completely_ miserable childhood, at least as far as she could tell. Sure, Faith admitted that much, her childhood hadn't been pretty, but maybe that was exactly why the whole house-marriage-dog-kids-thing had never been what she wanted. She didn't remember ever having a real family; she hadn't had a father, just her fucked up mother and her changing boyfriends. So, it hadn't worked for her parents and it would never work for her. Ever. First she had just feared it wouldn't work but then, slowly, she had learnt she didn't really want it to.

She was a freakin' slayer. She had saved the world. She wanted something more than dull, normal life. She had earned the right to want something more, hadn't she? 

Sitting on the porch, searching through her pockets, she finally found what she was looking for. A cigarette. Ah, sweet. Now, if only she had had a lighter… going through her pockets again, her fingers found the old, precious lighter and lit the cigarette inhaling deeply. It was an evening in the Summers residence and she was all alone in the house. If she hadn't been alone, she wouldn't have been able to enjoy her cigarette in peace. If it wasn't Dawn telling her smoking was bad for her lungs, it was Buffy telling she shouldn't endanger her health like that. As if she didn't already spend every minute of every day endangering her health one way or another. Although, lately, she hadn't even been patrolling with Buffy and Robin. From her point of view it felt more than pointless, but Buffy was Buffy and always would be. The same old B till the end of the world… and beyond, obviously. The fact the Grey fucking Triad had been breeding new divisions like rabbits bred their babies filling every corner of every city and country with their stupid little groups, Faith recognized it to be useless trying to chase after vampires. It was nice, to kill a few here and there, but it really made no difference. They needed a bigger and better fight plan.

That was why she, Faith, had been training a small group of slayers through-out the passed months. With Buffy working and patrolling, she had taken the job on her shoulders to make herself useful. It was weird how the new slayers kept popping up on regular bases. They were still chased by all sorts of… things… bringers being one of their worries and yet there was still more slayers around. It was good though, really good. The more the merrier and so on.

Anyways, it was B's big plan - to train a small group of slayers and then to go patrolling with them. Ah, such a huge difference; a handful of slayers instead of one. Big deal.

Faith snickered in her mind. She hadn't been stupid enough to express her feelings to Buffy though. Faith wasn't really sure what had bugged the slayer for so long, was it the fact she had lost Spike and so many others, or just Buffy being Buffy - always had to feel miserable. Life just wasn't life without the angsty, apathetic B staring into empty space and wallowing in self-pity, making a martyr outta herself… Unfortunately she'd been miserable ever since the bight fight few years back and now she had finally been regaining some of her life force. Faith's policy went pretty much along the lines that if it took slayers to train and patrols to make to keep B happy, then fine, so be it. It couldn't harm them - except when someone got killed, of course, but that was rare. She shrugged the thought off; there was enough death in her life without her constantly thinking about it.

It was ok, living in the house with B and Dawnie… and Robin… but it wasn't nice enough. She had saved the world and the cops were too busy to chase around after her, with the vampires taking over and everything, but she still felt trapped somehow. Yeah, she cared about Buffy and the little B, but things with Robin were, well, difficult. She liked the guy and the guy obviously felt for her, it wasn't about that, but he wanted something that she couldn't give.

A house. A marriage. A dog. Children. Yep, the whole damned deal.

What kind of sane person wanted to bring more kids to this rotten world, really? Wasn't there enough of suffering as it was, huh?

She was cut off by the distant sound of phone ringing. It took her a second to realize it was actually their phone and when she did, she carelessly threw her cigarette on the pavement and got up. Someone would surely fry her for that one, probably Dawnie with some long lecture already in store, but she was too tired to think about that. She'd deal with the lil B later - possibly not before tomorrow if she managed to sneak into her own room before she arrived and fake to be asleep.

When she finally reached the phone in the lobby and picked it up, it had rang at least 20 times. Who the fuck would actually let a phone ring that long? Suckers.

"Yeah?" She answered, not bothering to introduce herself or even sound polite. She had no need for that - everyone who would call her lived with her and if the call was for Buffy, well, again, she had no need to be polite. B's business was B's business.

"Faith, I assume," a strong British accent spoke taking the slayer by surprise. She frowned out of pure displeasure. Oh man, a British accent… well, that never promised good.

"Who's asking?" She asked, suspicious. If the person on the line, as she assumed, was one of those wannabe watchers, then why the hell would they be calling her? Okay, so they had no reason to call Buffy either since out of the two, B was definitely the one who wanted to slay and burn pretty much every watcher there was… 'cept for Giles, but then, he was special. He was different. At least he had been the last time they had seen him.

"I'm, well, I'd rather not say my name on the phone-" the voice encountered, but was cut off by Faith's sarcastic comment. "But ya felt comfortable enough sayin' mine?" She retorted, almost angry. "Gee, thanks a lot."

Man, what was it about the British guys that made her so spiteful and edgy? Ah, now she remembered, probably the bitch that had manipulated her and tried to kill her. _Yeah_, she nodded, _must been that one._

"Right, yes, well," the man sounded uneasy and most definitely embarrassed. Good, that was how she liked it. It was almost evil how she still enjoyed being feared by others. It gave her certain advantage that she still cherished. You would've thought that living with Buffy, the perfect little slayer that she was, would've drained her bad habits and traits out of her, but strangely, it hadn't. Sometimes Faith was almost sure it only added to them. 

"To get this… done… I'm with the Council and we have a proposition for you."

Oh woah, that had come out fast. Personally, Faith had been sure it would take at least 10 minutes for him to choke it out, but there it was. Out on the table. She had been right about him, then. "The council," she started sweetly, "- all of them - can kick their own asses as far as I care. I'm not interested."

"Maybe you'd rather hear the proposition before declining it, yes?"

She knew she should say no. She knew she should just hang up the phone and forget about it. The council - all of them - were nothing but a big pain in the ass and every time they appeared, someone was bound to get killed. By them or because of them. It was a law of nature, honestly. 

But Faith had always been one to follow her instincts and they were telling her to hold on a second. They were telling her that this could actually be what she had been waiting for… a way out, maybe? "Fine. Shoot me then," she said with indifferent tone.

"I take it you know about the Grey Triad-"

"Yeah, yeah," she sighed rushing, "evil groupie wants to take over the world. Vampires, bad, evil, blah blah and so on." It would be surprising if there still were people on Earth who didn't know about the Grey Triad. Some countries had tried to shield their inhabitants but after awhile people had gotten restless and suspicious - being cut off from the rest of the world was a huge tip-off, after all. They had demanded to be informed; it was part of their rights as humans and all that shit.

_Trying to save ungrateful people... what a waste of censorship._

"Yes, well, according to our sources they're after a young girl, a vampire, that could be very useful to us later on."

And so? What could that possibly have to do with her? And, for fuck's sake… "I'm sorry, but who the fuck is us?" She barked out in annoyance. The guy hadn't even introduced himself, the least he could do was give some information. "I mean there's so many councils nowadays that it's fucking ridiculous."

"I'm with Illuminati if you must know," he spoke and she could just tell he was offended by her latest remark. Well, good, he should be. It really was ridiculous the way the councils were behaving these days. At least when there had been one strong council they had had been somewhat powerful - idiotic, that would never change, but powerful. Now only some of the councils were and some were just… fucking fools trying to act tough, really.

Illuminati, Illuminati… this one sounded familiar.

"Oh, the one trying to co-exist with the scumbags," she continued as her memory gave her a hint. Ah, yeah, she knew them alright. Didn't fancy them though. "I'm a slayer, ya know? I don't associate with the vamps." She paused to think it over. "Unless they're really hot."

She could hear him sigh. "The girl is a slayer. _Angry,_" he emphasized the single word in a way that clearly told she should understand from where he was coming, "Lost and alone. Killing everything that moves."

Huh, what? Wasn't that sounding familiar… "'Kay, interesting… You've got five. Spill."

-fin


	5. blood

**Title:** BECAUSE I SAY SO  
**Author: ** **charmingsyrai**  
**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Series:** Envenom  
**Timeline:** post Chosen  
direct sequel to FOREVER IN A WORD  
**Characters:** original characters  
**Prompt:** #004 blood  
**Rating:** NC-17ish  
**Warnings:** bad, bad language and sexual stuff. Not smut per se, but close.  
**Word count:** about 3870  
**Status:** -fin as in finished  
**Table of prompts** here  
**Summary:** "Now, Rhian," he says finally staring at the ceiling, "there's something we have to talk about."

**Author's Notes:** Eep. I love Teagan. I want him in my bed... although there's nothing wrong with Finnegan either. I'm a pathetic little being.

Tenses again keep changing - most of the changes are thought-out, some are not. Me not English, dammit.

It's not as long as it was supposed to be, but... oh well. This particular piece doesn't really seem to go anywhere with the plot, meh, but hopefully it's still a good read Shrugs It does tell a lot about the characters, though.

**Written Installments:**  
broken (broken) . some day the dream will end (torture) . prologue (writer's choice) . you're made of my sin (coffin/buried) . forever in a word (masterpiece) . because i say so (blood) . the gypsy king (feral) . time to be what you need me to be (weapon) . the noose (fixation)

**BECAUSE I SAY SO**

Finnegan always chose a blonde human girl. Preferably a petite kind, but with a flaming temper. The lethargic ones just didn't do it for him. Nuh huh, they were cold, boring and never challenged him physically. Intellectually it was impossible for a human to challenge him, he was sure of that, but if he kept his vampire strength in check, it was very possible for a human girl to actually raise a decent struggle.

Yes, of course he could've simply hunted one down just for the fun of it, but it was too much trouble; he was too lazy. Besides, he hunted enough as it was during his work hours so it was actually nice to be able to just pick a willing girl to play with and pay. This way the game didn't get too old - the rules kept changing and he didn't have to listen to them scream and cry all the time.

Although, occasionally, he did pay for that too. Was there anything more arousing than a small, blonde girl crying and weeping at his feet, completely under his mercy? Completely his to be used? No, he didn't think there was.

Maybe he was being stupid. There were plenty of girls around that would've shared his bed for free, but things with those always got so complicated - vampire girls were proud, not all of them played his games. And then there were the idiots that actually thought that sex act meant something more. So, instead of having to explain the rules of the game each time, he came here where there was no need for him to explain anything at all... no need to pretend anything. The girls here wanted nothing but money - no promises, no sweet whispers. Just money.

The world needed more girls like that. _More blonde companions._ The thought amused him - ah yes, companions. These girls didn't allow themselves to be called prostitutes, never. Those were the kinds that stood in street corners, they said, the kinds that were filled with all kind of horrible diseases. These girls, they thought they outranked them. In many ways, they did.

The girl on top of him, riding him as some would've said, was moaning out of shared pleasure. He was trying to think of something else, just to keep the act on longer, but it was proving to be very difficult when a pair of two beautifully plumb breasts with his teeth marks all over them kept bouncing above his face.

They had started the game with her running around, screaming and yelling, but as the minutes had turned into hours, the game had finally been played and he had been satisfied the way he wanted to.

But Finnegan, he was a gentleman. At least, he tried to be.

So, lying on the floor next to the heavily breathing girl and her ripped clothes, he had suddenly realized something.

"You didn't come," he said calmly.

It didn't sound like a question, but neither did it seem like a simple statement either. The girl turned to look at him, astonished. She didn't know whether she was expected to deny it or admit it and so, she could only frown.

"Am I right?" He asked looking for a simple confirmation.

Now the girl nodded shyly. The gesture amused him - how could she suddenly look so shy, after everything that they had just done together? Maybe that was why he had kissed her gently, careful not to cut her lips with his teeth like he had done before. His tongue licked the cuts, erupting a flinch from her. Still, this time she responded differently and he, as weird as it seemed, liked it. It was the girl who deepened the kiss, pushing her body as close to his as possible. He wasn't sure how they had ended up into the bed, but they had.

Bending backwards, the girl moaned again, obviously closer to her climax. Returning to the moment on hand, he let out a low, husky growl. His finger nails dig deep into her hips, but she was too wrapped around her own desire to notice it... or then she liked it. He had noticed how the girls always seemed to deny the fact they loved to be hurt, but from his experience, he could tell it was a lie. As long as he didn't cross a certain limit, bringing them a little pain usually just deepened their pleasure. It seemed to do the trick again, for he could feel how the girl suddenly trembled and stopped breathing... 

There, now.

After it was over, she collapsed against his body. Normally he wouldn't have allowed that - he would've removed her instantly and told her to get dressed, the game was played. Now, however, for a reason he couldn't quite understand, the next five minutes he just lay there underneath her, arms around her as if to protect her from the cold.

It was the human girl that moved first. Lifting her head up to observe his face, she smiled. "Thank you."

The words surprised him just like his question had managed to surprise the girl earlier.

"My pleasure," he said offering her a small smile and a wink. When the girl unexpectedly pulled away, sliding him carefully out of her folds, he felt disappointed. He should've probably been horrified and kill the girl, but the option didn't really please him. No, there was something else, however, that would... Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her back down on his chest. The naked, sweaty skin against his erased the unwanted disappointment, leaving nothing but peaceful harmony behind.

"Stay," he whispered, but they both knew it was a command, not a request.

And she stayed... because she wanted to.

0000

The waiting room was quieter than usually. Normally Rhian didn't mind the soothing silence, but this time it actually bothered her a little. The receptionist, a young and skittish blonde vampire, had gone through the door to the main lounge and even when the door had been open for a passing moment, no voices had reached her ears from the other room. It was actually pretty disturbing and if she hadn't known how popular and respected the safe house was, she probably would've left by now.

The place had changed. The waiting room had been painted light brown, a color she was actually very fond of, and numerous paintings she hadn't seen before, had now appeared on the walls to bring a little color. The sofa on which she was sitting, Teagan firmly by her side, was also new and therefore, heavenly soft. She was especially glad for that one, since the old sofa had started to feel lumpy and her delicate little bottom had not really liked it. Rhian didn't consider herself as a snob, but with Teagan around and always paying for everything, she had learnt to appreciate certain things. Luxury and class, among other things.

The changes in the house had not, however, stopped there. No, the receptionist was obviously new too, for Rhian had never seen her before. Plus, if she hadn't been new, they would've already been allowed to enter the lounge instead of being forced to sit in the waiting room while the receptionist had gone to check their papers to make sure they were allowed to enter. The Grey Triad was strict when it came to its own rules and especially in the New York area. No wait, she backed in her mind, it wasn't called New York anymore.

Truthfully, it hadn't been called New York for a long time - the city that had once been controlled by humans had perished alongside with the smaller cities nearby. The Grey Triad had changed the old borders and named the born sector as Neopolis, a city of the vampires. Later it had grown to be the Triad's main area where everything, absolutely everything, was controlled by the Triad. No old human laws existed there and well, there really weren't that many humans either as there once had been. The ones that stayed had been either slaughtered or enslaved. Well, except for the ones that had chosen to work for the Triad on their own free will; surprisingly many had. Those lucky bastards with one strong survival instinct actually lived pretty luxurious and dare to say, protected life in their own homes and had their own companies and shops. Their lives really hadn't changed that much at all, if you thought about it. Or at least, it was pretty damn similar to the life they had had. Besides, the Triad had managed to keep the order much better than the human law forces ever. The amount of crimes performed against the Triad's rules by both humans and vampires only got lower and lower every month, which was something the humans actually valued highly. As said, nothing compared to the survival instinct of a human being or at least, that's how she saw it. The demons were much more troublesome; she wondered if they had ever even heard of such thing. They only wanted to conquer. Stupid animals.

Rhian smothered a yawn against her palm and closed her eyes for a second. Where the hell was that stupid girl? She was tired, but then again, after being pulled out from the warm bed in the middle of the night after a fight accompanied by some intense love-making, it was probably expected. Although -she snorted in her mind somewhat cynically- she wasn't sure if their little session could have been called love-making. No, in all honesty, it had been more like her punishment for disagreeing with her lover. Yes, their sex was always rough to a certain level, they were vampires after all with animalistic instincts that came with the package and so it was how they liked it, but this time… this time Teagan had ignored her needs completely. She had been left cold and dry without any real satisfaction. It wasn't like him, but she couldn't really blame him... she knew who to blame. Herself.

Rhian wasn't sure why she had even kept arguing. In the end Teagan always won and after all those fights, she should've known better. Why hadn't she listened to herself? Even during the fight, her mind had kept yelling at her, telling her to forget about it and just let it go. He had been in a weird, weird mood and she had known it, dammit - the way his temper had flared, the way he had demanded for her submission. _Always yours, Teagan._

Still, she had refused to stop fighting, knowing very well it would only stir more trouble. Knowing it wouldn't change a damn thing. It was obvious right from the beginning that after the fight she would still end up here.

The Triad's number 1 safe house in that particular area.

She knew this was the only safe house Teagan really appreciated, not to mention accepted. She was very well aware of the fact that before they had met, he had often visited the place, but never for the blood... she tried to extinguish the faint feeling of jealousy somewhere in the core of her soul, but it wasn't that easy. She hated jealousy, it made people act funny and she always told Teagan off for that same reason and yet, there it was. Inside her.

Trying to ignore it, she returned to her previous train of thoughts. Teagan. To him the hunt was always as important as the actual kill and she had never tried to change that. But it was exactly why he had never understood, and she suspected he never would either, why she any given time chose "an alternative feeding resource" as the humans had come to call it. She loved the taste of blood as any other vampire in his right mind, but for some reason she strongly disliked feeding from a human. Teagan had suspected it had something to do with the fact she was a slayer now, meant to protect the humans, not to kill them. Unlike Rhian, he was determined to change that, though.

Because of that simple feeling of dislike, she usually looked for a blood bank ran by Illuminati and so, she didn't visit the safe houses often. But of course, when Teagan was around and following her every move like now, she had no choice. Last time she had come alone, yes, but only because she hadn't wanted to anger him more... and because Teagan had stood outside the building from the minute she had entered the house all the way to the minute she had stepped out. He hadn't shown himself, of course, but she had known he was there.

The link between them, the link of a sire and his creation gave his presence away. It usually did.

Glancing the clock on the wall, she realized it had already been over 20 minutes. What the fuck could possibly take so long? Unless she was making calls, checking up on her background... There was nothing vague about Teagan's, so, it had to be hers. She sighed, ashamed. Whenever her past came up, she couldn't help but feel deep shame - especially when her background was compared to Teagan's. The man had such a stainless, perfect background that at times, she found it almost irritating. Well, at least he had had. When the Triad had found out about them, they had been horrified; their precious little vampire was sleeping with a slayer. Turning the slayer into a vampire they all considered to be a good thing; it showed how useless and powerless she was. But to be sleeping with one... to protect one... that was the greatest insult a vampire could face. _Well,_ Rhian thought bitterly, _try being one._ Weirdly so, if she had to choose what to tell people about herself, she rather told she had been a prostitute. At least people could get past that one... but no matter what, she'd always be a slayer. They said Teagan should've been ashamed of himself, but the truth was he had no need for it; she was ashamed enough for the both of them.

If only he hadn't forced her to come... During their fight, Rhian had pointed out that it was stupid for them to fight about the same subject time after time. Her feeding habits had been their fights' main subject for weeks now... it was getting exhausting. Then why didn't she let it go? She had no idea.

"I don't see why we have to fight about this every fucking time," she had said glancing at the figure next to her body, "Illuminati has blood banks everywhere; why can't I just-"

Of course, that was the furthest she had gotten with that particular sentence.

"Because Illuminati is a fucking enemy, Rhian," he had spat eyes flaring, "Rhys has made it very clear that it will not allow its members to feed in those places." He couldn't understand how she didn't get it. Illuminati and everything related to them was an enemy of theirs and still, after he had repeatedly ordered her to stop associating with those shitheads, she just didn't obey.

"But I'm not a member of the Triad," she had protested, "You are, Teagan, you are."

True enough, but Teagan didn't quite see it the same way she did, though. From his point of view just because he was, she should've respected that and obeyed the same rules... and thus the fight had only continued. Only, not in words...

The sound of a opening door woke Rhian up from her thoughts, but the figure stepping through the door wasn't the one she had anticipated. It was almost weird how she could sense Teagan's change of mood as the familiar figure materialized.

Before neither of the two could speak, the newcomer had already sat down on the arm chair, face to face with the sofa, and spoke with his usual outgoing style, "Cain, mate, what ya doin' here?"

Yep, that was Finnegan for sure - the only vampire in the world that had earned the rights to call Teagan by his last name. Rhian had known the vampire for almost a year now, but she still had not figured out whether Finnegan was his first name or last or just some silly nickname his friends had come up with.

Teagan, however, didn't say anything, but only nodded towards his companion with a meaningful sigh that told his friend whole story.

"Ah, Rhian, ya dirty lil thing," Finnegan continued, winking an eye and flashing his trademark grin, "Been 'causing trouble as always, have ya?"

Rhian responded with a casual shrug, amused. She had always liked the assassin, even though he obviously lacked in manners. He had been among the first to find out about Rhian, but had never really treated her differently because of it. In fact, he had always been rather nice to her, if you didn't count his playful habit of teasing her about her slayer genes, that was.

Teagan's hand suddenly moved and landed on her thigh, petting it softly. "That's my Rhian. Never a moment of peace."

"As if I was the only to blame," she snorted, not really offended by the comment. Teagan only smiled at her teasingly, before turning his attention to Finnegan. Obviously Finnegan's sudden appearing had managed to sooth his anger, which was only good. She was relieved and if things went well, he would probably stay in his good mood for the rest of the day and that was good too.

"So, what brings you here then, Finn?"

Hmph, what a silly question to ask, especially from Finnegan - Rhian knew exactly what the answer they'd hear would be and when he finally said it, she couldn't help but smile. The same old Finnegan.

"The ladies, of course," he replied with the smirk all over his face. Even his dark blue eyes seemed to be laughing. It really was no surprise to Rhian that the female population found him so attractive. He was tall, muscular and so sure of himself that it only added to his charm. The smirk revealed white teeth and two perfect fangs that couldn't go unnoticed. Usually his black hair was in a ponytail, at least when he was working, but now his black shoulder length locks were messily resting against his neck.

"You still haven't found the love of your life, then?" Rhian teased cocking her head.

"Nope. Seems it's not so easy for all of us," he replied sighing heavily before his eyes lit again, "If only Summers would-"

"She's a slayer," Teagan interrupted coldly. He knew, like Rhian, that the vampire had only been joking... or at least half-joking and that, she assumed, was the problem. Finnegan's growing obsession with Buffy Summers seemed to worry Teagan more and more.

"And what's that then?" Finnegan retorted pointing a finger at Rhian.

"Hey, I'm not a that!" She barked not missing a beat whereas Teagan said nothing. He had made his point known and there was no need for him to explain it further.

Finnegan sighed. "Sorry, Rhian, didn't mean it like that, ya know?" To her big surprise, he actually looked apologizing as the words came out. Rhian smiled faintly. Who could possibly stay angry at a face like that, huh? 

"Yeah, yeah..." She dismissed the words telling in her own way that it was already forgiven although not forgotten, "Still, you really should get over this obsession of yours. The slayer will never-"

"Haven't you heard the rumors?" Finnegan cut her off, "They said Angelus got a piece of her."

Ah yes, Rhian indeed hard heard the stories about Angelus and his I'm-a-vamp-with-a-soul-phase, but that was all it had been. A phase. A phase that had just extended itself... and it hadn't even been Angelus, it had been Angel! Ah, that's right, Angel! "Yes, but at the time Angelus was-"

"They also said William the Bloody got his share," Teagan pointed out suddenly. Rhian frowned cursing in her mind. He was supposed to be on her side, not his, dammit.

Spike? _Well. Too bad._ "I don't believe that for a second," she claimed, lifting her chin proudly. In her mind, though, she hesitated a bit. The two male vampires knew so much more about the vampire world than she did... "And even if he did... he switched sides so what does it matter? He was fighting with them and..." she paused, "well, you aren't."

"Yeah, true," Finnegan agreed smirking, "But I have something those two didn't have."

Of course. "Bigger ego," Teagan chimed in chuckling. Rhian then again was more annoyed, than amused. She couldn't help but feel annoyed whenever the vampires brought up Buffy Summers. For the weirdest reason they all seemed to have such high respect towards the girl who had managed to kill pretty much every single vampire and demon sent to destroy her... if they respected her because of her skills, why couldn't they respect a slayer that was actually one of them and fought on their side? Why? Wasn't she good enough?

"Yes, that too. Plus, I have the looks, lady." Finnegan didn't seem to sense her uneasiness, but Teagan did. Through the sire-link, as usual. He squeezed her thigh again, to let her know he was right there in case she needed him. Her growing bad mood dissolved, just because of that single touch and just like that, she was back in the game.

"Just keep dreaming, Finn," she mused, "keep dreaming."

"Oh I will."

"You know," Rhian drawled in after a moment, "it's actually quite funny, especially since you've never even seen Summers."

He snarled, busted. It was true, the vampire had never actually met the said slayer, but... that didn't mean he had never seen her... "I've seen her..." he shot back, "...in pictures. She looks hot."

What? Did not! "She does not," Rhian put in immediately. How could he even say that?

Finnegan caught the wind, as usually, and couldn't help but add: "She looks a little like you. Blonde 'n' all."

As expected, that blazed up her temper like nothing else could. It was a close call she didn't jump on her feet and attack him right there and then. "She does not!" She shrieked, sounding very much like a little child to Teagan's ears, "That's an insult! Teagan! Tell him!"

Having his name being pulled in, Teagan figured it was time to put an end to the whole damned show. "Okay, that's enough," he said with a voice that told the other two he was more than serious, "You do not look like the slayer. You're beautiful," he continued simply and then turned his gaze back to Finnegan. "Finnegan, don't tease her. That subject is off-limits. There." With that said, he suddenly rose to his feet. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm gonna go see what the hell is taking so long."

When Teagan disappeared through the door into the lounge, Rhian turned to look at the present vampire with a poisonous death glare. "Ass."

_"Slayer,"_ he snarled back. 

-fin


	6. oath

**Title:** HIS LITTLE PUPPET  
**Author: ** **charmingsyrai**  
**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Series:** Envenom  
**Timeline:** post Chosen  
**Characters:** original characters  
**Prompt:** #035 oath  
**Rating:** Rish  
**Warnings:** bad, bad and kinky language, smuttish stuff and a cherry on top; some violence.   
**Word count:** about 3145  
**Status:** -fin as in finished  
**Table of prompts** here  
**Summary:** It was the first time it had happened. Ever. Most likely it was the last time, too, and it pained her… because she wanted more.

**Author's Notes:** In our current timeline, I'd say this fic takes place after F's the noose fixation.

Even though F seems to dislike Poppy and her perky name, I like her and wanted to write a bit more about her… Again, not much happening with the plot, meh...

I'm thinking, in Neopolis, 'solange pissant' and 'cermi' are very common curse words :nods: It's kinda like BSG's Frak or Farscape's Frell, mwuahaha... Trust me, you really don't want to know from where we got them with F. It's dirty inside our pretty little heads.

**Written Installments:**  
broken broken / some day the dream will end torture / prologue writer's choice / you're made of my sin coffin/buried / forever in a word masterpiece / because i say so blood / the gypsy king feral / time to be what you need me to be weapon / the noose fixation / his little puppet oath

**HIS LITTLE PUPPET**

Poppy wasn't sure how long it had been; how long had she stood there in the shower like a pathetic little teenage girl, leaning against the wall with her hands and letting the water run… hitting her, taking over, filling her. Every other moment she was forced to spit a mouthful of water out or swallow it down, but she couldn't move and turn her face away. No, not yet. The cool water drumming against her face, again and again, it was the one thing that could silence her own screaming thoughts and keep them at bay. She needed this silence so badly right now; it was the only thing that made the burning tears go away.

Gods, she hated being this weak, this pathetic.

She knew she was being childish and only postponing the inevitable, but just the thought of returning to her own room... it broke her. In the end, she would have to go back, but she didn't want to deal with the reality, not yet… going back meant she would smell him, smell what they had done. And he, he would no longer be there in the safety of her bed… in time, his smell would fade and the night before would be forgotten... what really got to her, though, was that she knew that she'd end up sleeping in those sheets until that happened. She would cherish the memory until it would fade into oblivion… hold on a little bit longer... drain its energy.

It was the first time it had happened. Ever. Most likely it was the last time, too, and it pained her… because she wanted more.

Yes, Poppy had had her fair share of fantasies… who hadn't? She had dreamt how he'd suddenly realize his true feelings and pull her hungrily into his arms, kiss her lips and peel off her clothes... one by one, slowly. Kiss every inch of her body, caress her all over, touch her where she wanted to be touched... satisfy her... She knew he would never love her the way she craved him to, the way she loved him… but she had thought she could deal with it.

One night. She had thought it'd be enough. Just one night, you know, to get him out her system. To get over it. 

But she had been wrong. It wasn't enough. The system only craved for more.

That was why they always said you should never test drugs, huh? Well, it was a little too late for that particular advice, wasn't it?

She had done everything to protect herself from this! She had tried to bury her feelings for so long, tried to bury them so deep into her own mind that he'd never smell them - that she'd never smell them, either. Common sense of self-preservation was supposed to keep her safe! It was supposed to be such a simple thing.

_Well, guess what,_ she snorted silently, _it isn't._

He didn't love. Why? Because he didn't share this common weakness, this flaw, like most of the vampires did and she had no delusions about herself - there was absolutely nothing and no one that could change him. He was a killer who knew better than well to keep his emotions in check - if he didn't, they'd end up killing him in blink of an eye. Or if not him, then someone he loved.

She couldn't have lived with that... especially if she had been the one to die. She snorted, again.

So, to protect both herself and him, she had suffocated those feelings she had; it was the only way to keep him from using her and now, it was very possible she had blown her cover. She wasn't sure, she didn't know.

Why had she let him do that? What the fuck had possessed her? She had known where that look in his eyes would lead them and yet, she had let him stay. She had let him stay!

_You fucking_ _solange pissant. Yes you, you stupid fuck._

Yeah, she should've just kicked him out of her room and tell him to go whine at someone else about his problems - she was sleeping.

But she hadn't done that, oh no... she had thought about it, sure, but when she had tried to say the words and ask him to leave, nothing had come out. There he was, the cold assassin who didn't share his feelings with anyone, at her doorstep pissed off like a fucking bee after being stepped on.

Which, actually, was pretty much how the vampire had felt.

And she, being the stupid pathetic idiot that she was, she had seen her chance. She had been stupid enough to think that it meant something - the fact he would come to her in the middle of the night, falling apart because he was fucking sick and tired of dealing with everything alone... she had thought it meant something. Something more.

What had she expected, huh? Fucking bonding?

He had sat there, on her flower-covered sofa, looking so out of place in her feminine room... but hell, he had only been there for 5 minutes or so when his presence had already dominated the room and taken over. Suddenly it didn't seem like her room anymore... and that's when she had noticed the change.

His eyes. She had noticed his eyes; the fact they weren't looking into hers anymore like usually. Their aim was lower, the color deeper. It was only then that she realized she was wearing practically nothing - a satin robe covering her top and boxers in which she usually slept. At first she had simply covered the exposed shoulder trying to ask him a question -she couldn't remember what it was anymore- but he hadn't answered.

He had finally seen what she had wanted him to see for so long. Not his employee, not a young girl. Something else. At that point, _gods_, it had felt like he had seen her, the real Penelope Lane. And in that moment, she had been able to convince herself that the look in his eyes would not have been so misty if he had seen something he did not like.

_Fuck!_ She had wanted it with every fiber of her being, every cell had been screaming his name so loud it hummed in her ears. When he had leaned forward and grabbed her arms, locked her into his embrace, it had felt like he would never leave her. He'd always be there.

She had woken up, hours later, and seen him sleeping in her bed. Even in sleep, he gave out no emotions - you couldn't tell whether he was seeing a happy dream or a nightmare, his face always stayed the same. And just like that, the illusion had lasted a little bit longer.

In the morning she woke up with an empty bed beside her, accompanied by just an imprint of a body that had once been there and his smell. He had taken the illusion with him and left her nothing, nothing but the smell.

And the sore ache between her legs... and a few bruises here and there... and, feeling her lips with her pink tongue, obviously more cuts and wounds...

But they'd all be gone soon and then she'd be left with truly nothing.

Perhaps if she took a picture of herself, all bruised? Then she could at least have something. She could, at any time she wanted, go and ransack her drawer and take a look of the picture hidden underneath her clothes. She could look at it and see it wasn't a dream, it wasn't an illusion.

_Yes_, the picture would say, _yes, that one time, you truly were fucked by Rhys Aidan._

_Yes_, it would say, mocking, _you truly were taken on your flower-covered sofa, screaming his name, asking him to fuck you harder, deeper, faster._

_Yes,_ it would say, laughing at her face, feeding on her misery. _Yes, you truly made a fucking fool out of yourself this time, didn't you?_

And she? She would probably just smile. Fucking smile!

"Damn you, Rhys," she whispered into the water suffocating an angry snob, "damn you, fucker. Fucking _cermi._"

But in her head, it wasn't Rhys that Poppy blamed with bitter passion. She blamed herself. She had seen it coming, she had known it would happen if she'd let her guard down. These assassins, they were all the same. They saw a piece of meat and went after it. Seriously, sometimes she was sure they fucked everything that moved.

If she had known this - and she had, then why the hell had she let it happen?

0000

It had been about 27 days since Penelope Lane's 16'th birthday, the day she had waited for months and months.

... 25 days since she had been turned into a blood-sucking vampire, the day that had turned out to be her future nightmare, what kept her awake.

25 days since she had been _his_ random pick for the day's meal, grabbed and dragged into an alley where no one bothered to follow, not even upon hearing her screams. No one, absolutely no one, came to her rescue. They all ignored her pleads and the fact there was a young girl there, begging for help, begging for mercy... being beaten up by a vampire ten times bigger than she was.

They had all seen it, how he had locked his fist around her arm and forced her to follow him, but not a single person had lifted their finger to help her. Vampires were nothing unusual in their little town, everyone there knew these things weren't imaginary creations. They knew they were real, but they didn't dare to fight them. It was why the vampires in the town didn't even bother hiding... it was the only reason why his eyes were yellow, why his face looked like a monster's.

Penelope knew this, she knew it all and nevertheless, she had gone out after the sunset to meet someone... a boy. All this for a boy! How could she have been so stupid?

She fought for her life, not wanting to give up. Her hits and kicks, they seemed to have no effect on him. She tried to squirm away from his strong hold, but couldn't. But it didn't stop her from trying, God no.

Only after she had fallen on the ground with a broken arm, one eye swollen shut and her whole body bleeding rapidly, then he had kneeled down next to her... only then, after making those 15 minutes the worst minutes of her life, did he choose to drink from her and relieve her of the pain.

She hadn't cried, not once.

He had laughed before kissing her... before forcing her to swallow the blood in his mouth.

Most of it was hers, but not all.

That, she supposed, was what he had wanted to. His revenge because the stupid little human girl had dared to fight. Or maybe he had considered it to be her prize, her present for not crying. For fighting.

Afterwards... she could still remember how she had only craved for more and so, those 25 days she had spent her hours gathering her strength... killing the ones that had dared to ignore her screams. Everyone of them - everyone above 16. Making them pay for what he had done to her. For what they had let him do to her. There were only five of them, two older men, two women and one teenaged boy. She didn't kill the boy, but only fed instead.

When the task was done, she had felt better. It was bullshit when they said revenge never gave satisfaction. To this vampire, it did, it really did.

It was cold, she recognized this, but the snow had long ago eaten the feeling from her toes. She had no place to go. She had tried to go back to home... they hadn't let her in. They had screamed at her, cursed her... feared her. They had known what she had become. Everyone knew.

She could still hear her father's words in her ears. If she'd go back, he'd kill her. That's what he had said with a pale face, eyes full of sorrow.

She had fought for her life, for this life. She wasn't so keen on letting it go, not even after what she had become, and so she left. She had left and had not gone back.

And now, here she was. The sun had already set and there really weren't that many people out there in the streets... most of the town-people locked themselves into their cozy little houses the minute the sunset, but not every one could. Not every one wanted to.

Penelope was too deep in her own thoughts to hear her follower. She didn't know she'd been followed for awhile now, because she really didn't know how to control her newborn senses. Everything was so new, too clear, too bright, too something.

Then it was too late. A hand appeared out of nowhere, chubby fingers wrapped painfully around her neck from behind and she was slammed against the nearest building with such force she could feel her nose breaking. The smell of blood was intoxicating, even when it was hers.

The figure behind her pressed itself against her back and all she could feel was disgust. His smelly breath against her neck, his fingers finding their way inside her shirt, touching her breasts, all she wanted to do was kick his fat sorry ass to the sun.

She tried to push him off with her back, but whoever it was, he was stronger than she was. A vampire, it had to be a vampire - only someone like her could have been so much stronger than what she had become.

He squeezed her nipple, rough and she cursed aloud. She didn't panic, not before she could feel the bulge against her ass... not before she felt him push his hand between them to unzip his trousers and then move to open hers. Then she panicked.

She didn't scream; what good would that have done, huh? The humans didn't even bother saving one of their own, so they honestly weren't likely to save a vampire either. She was trapped.

Then, out of the blue, she was free.

The weight against her back disappeared with a loud whoosh and she spun around, ready to flee the scene. But what she saw stopped her planned escape.

It was a man, a vampire to be exact. She knew he was a vampire even though his face looked like a normal human's.

The older vampire, chubby, filthy thing was now lying on his back on the snow, looking dumbfounded. The younger one, with his dark blue eyes flickering, was smiling a vicious smile but it's message wasn't targeted at her, it was for him.

"That's not how one should treat a lady," the younger vampire spoke startling Penelope, who had only been able to stare at him. He had such beautiful, beautiful dirty blond locks that for a minute there, she had only wanted to step forward and sink her fingers into them. They were filled with snowflakes and she realized it had started to snow.

The vampire on the ground, he still didn't speak. 

Penelope didn't understand why. It was obvious he was bigger and older... no, that's where she realized she was wrong. She couldn't tell which one was older, vampires didn't age. Still, she assumed the bigger one was probably stronger due to his natural size...

But nothing. He just sat there on the ground, looking at him.

"Yes, I see you know who I am, whereas I have no idea who you are and I feel this might be a bit of a problem," the vampire said folding his arms. He was wearing long white leather jacket and jeans with winter boots. All in all, to her, the whole outfit seemed a bit weird combination.

"This is part of the Triad's area and I'm sure you know it. It may not be known to humans but I'm almost sure every vampire within this radar does know this. And _acknowledge_ it."

She did not understand a word. They made no sense.

"Now, I don't think the Triad appreciates the fact you're, not only, on their culling area but also harassing a girl, who to me, looks to be another vampire," he shook his head sighing as if he was chiding a little child, before cocking it slightly, "where are you manners, mister?"

Still. Nothing.

"You can either get up and get the fuck away or you can get up and get killed. It's really your choice, either way is fine. But whatever you do, don't show your face in our area ever again. Ok?" Gods, his voice sounded so casual, so normal... and yet, it was hypnotizing... so deep, but so soft... so... she didn't know. She had no words for it. He was threading to kill someone, but yet he managed to sound nothing but formal... and a bit bored, perhaps.

Now, the vampire on the ground, he didn't have to be told twice. He got up, nodded and unlike she expected, turned around and ran. Ran like a wind... or at least like a very fast cow, but still. She couldn't believe it - he had actually ran?

Only when he disappeared around the corner, he turned to look at her.

"You should be more careful," he said after examining her features from head to toe almost as if to make sure she had stayed relatively unharmed, "He followed you quite a bit there."

She had meant to thank him for the rescue, but hearing him say the words, turned the tide. "How you know?" She asked suspiciously.

The stranger shrugged. "Well. _I_ followed him quite a bit there, too."

It was none of her business, she knew that, but she tried her luck anyway. "Why?"

"It's not important," he answered stuffing his hands into his pockets, "especially now that the problem has been dealt with."

She didn't inquire more, it wasn't her place.

"Say," he started with a smile on his face before she could say anything else, "you seem to have nowhere to go... or are you simply, I don't know - for fun maybe, aimlessly roaming around the streets?"

Maybe that was the day she swore she'd never leave his side.

Maybe that was the day she had, for the first and last time in her whole life, fallen in love with something else but silence.

_Maybe,_ the picture would say, pitying her, _that_ _was the day you knew you'd want to get fucked by no one but him... on your pastel colored sofa._

And she had smiled. Just fucking smiled.

-fin.


	7. phoenix

**Title:** THE THINGS YOU'VE DONE

**Author**: LJ USER"charmingsyrai"

**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer

**Series:** Envenom

**Timeline**: post Chosen

after _TIME TO BE WHAT YOU NEED ME TO BE_

**Characters:** original characters

**Prompt:** #087 Phoenix

**Summary:** How the fuck did she always end up into that rotting house with his naked form sleeping so damn blissfully next to her bare one? The fuck she knew.

**A/N: **Figured it's time to introduce other characters of the story and well, here we go. Meet Cloey and Rufus aka Phoenix (that's not the only reason why I chose this prompt for this one, though). It's annoying... I keep seeing Balthazar Getty as Rufus... I think it's because of the eyebrow :pouts: Three was supposed to be a third scene in this little thing, too, but I couldn't write it under this prompt - it felt wrong, so I decided that this thing is just an introduction and that's that.

**THE THINGS YOU'VE DONE**

How the fuck did she always end up into that rotting house with his naked form sleeping so damn blissfully next to her bare one? The fuck she knew.

The bed had become almost too familiar to her through all this time, just like the whole house - she knew every dark corner and forgotten room the house held, each and every drawer and cupboard and what were hidden inside them. She had always had a very curious nature and he had often walked into the room only to find her going through his stuff time after another. He never said anything about it, didn't ask her to stop or tell her she had no fucking rights, not anymore, and so she always kept going through whatever drawer she had pulled open and continued the search. Usually he just sat down with a drink in his hands and waited; watched her, observed her movements with this weird fascination she had never learnt to understand.

Sometimes, even after weeks gone by without seeing or visiting him at all, she could still smell her own scent all over his house the minute she stepped over the threshold. She wondered if he ever invited anyone else there - didn't he fuck anyone but her? Or maybe he still didn't feel comfortable enough bringing those damned bitches into a house that had once been theirs - maybe he went to those the safe houses like all the others did nowadays. Even she, sometimes, when she wanted something new and different. Still, it was strange how the simple thought of him fucking one of those whores made her skin crawl. She hissed at the thought, sounding very much like a snake.

He mumbled something, but didn't wake up, which she noted gratefully. It would've been awkward to try and explain him why she had suddenly felt such waves of jealousy that they could've easily drowned her – if he had woken up, he would've felt them too. Damn link. Always making her life a little bit more complicated than needed... If he had been his sire, she would've understood – but he wasn't. So, what was with the fucking link?

She had always hated it; how vulnerable it made her.

Christ, how long had it been since she had left him without any kind explanations and moved out of the house; _this_ house? About 30 something fucking years, she counted in her mind. A damned long time for one to live in the past...

Yeah, he was pretty pathetic, alright, but she wasn't that much better either. She did admit it, but only to herself, never aloud.

No one besides Gina knew about their shared history - perhaps not even Rhys. Well, hopefully he didn't; it had been a secret well guarded and the fact they had both happened to join the Triad was nothing but a ... a coincidence?

_Or act of fate?_

Which one did she want it to be? Well, who the fuck cared? It changed nothing. She had already moved on, but the day Rhys had told her she'd be working with another brilliant hunter her life had changed again. He had walked into the room filling it with his presence like always, leaving no room for air or anything else, and right there and then the ghosts of the past had caught up with her. She had acted like a true professional through it all; the tears had filled her eyes only after she had closed her bedroom's door, locked herself into the small bathroom and turned the shower on.

She had never apologized for what she had done to him long time ago and he had never asked her to, either.

Her eyes dropped from the ceiling and ever so slowly, to keep him in his sleep, she pulled the sheets to cover her breasts turning to look at him. Even then, looking so torn and exhausted after what she had done to him once again, he looked so beautiful, almost breathtaking. There was an old scar splitting his eyebrow in half - he always whined about it out of habit, but she had always thought it only made him sexy as hell. She didn't remember when he had gotten it, but she knew it had been she to plant it upon him. It made her smile... Knowing she had marked him. Knowing; remembering it sure as hell wasn't the _only_ mark she had left on him during the years.

Maybe it was wrong of her to take such pleasure out of that, but she did.

After all this time... he was still hers.

A small, pleased chuckle rolled out of her tongue. He was always so careful not to hurt her in any _visible_ way, yet she did everything she could to make him bleed and cry out of pain and he always let her. She hadn't asked why, not before, not now. Maybe he knew something she didn't.

She could still smell the half dried blood on his body. He was bleeding again, or at least had been earlier, but she couldn't quite tell why or from where, just that it was there tickling her senses. Yeah, well, she had been rougher than usually and hadn't really stopped to admire her work. Too bad.

She hadn't meant to come here, knock on his door with tears bursting out of her eyes... or to rip his clothes off like an animal in heat - which was exactly what she had done the second he had looked at her with worry in his eyes and invited her in, asking if she wanted something to drink... he hadn't seen it coming, but yet he had known to expect it. He had learnt, she supposed. The years gone by had taught him that much already.

She hadn't come for sex, dammit. Then _why?_ For the old time's sake, maybe?

She had come here to talk with him. Only to talk, to cry against his shoulder, to hear him say it wasn't that bad and that everything was gonna be okay cause she was the strongest person he had ever met and cause she was just so fucking cool. Hearing it always made her laugh. Life seemed a little bit less complicated while laughing.

That had to be it. When life kicked her in the head and drained all the fluid out of her veins, there was only one place where she would go to gather her strength. She couldn't do it at home, not with her baby girl being there and depending on her. She was the mother, she had to be the strong one out of the two. Not that Gina didn't know how to take care of herself, she thought feeling pure, pleasurable pride... the kid had been taking care of herself for 16 years now, ever since her real parents had been killed in front of her eyes.

She didn't want Gina to see her like that, crying, broken... desperately in need of some one to cling on and hold her when she was near the edge of a fucking breakdown. The kid had been through enough without having to take care of the one person who was supposed to be her solid rock.

So, there was only one other place besides home where she felt good, comfortable, warm... loved, even. Never had truly understood why he kept offering his comfort to her, but she was grateful anyway. Hated herself for playing with his head, hated him for letting her, but still, so very fucking grateful that it scorched her insides making it feel as if there was nothing but poisonous juice running through her body.

Guilt.

She didn't like feeling guilty.

_Vampires_ weren't fucking supposed to feel guilty! They were above that.

That was what he had said to her, the one who had turned her all those years ago - what was it, 60 years ago? Gods, it felt like it had happened yesterday. She could see the scene in front of her eyes so clear, so vivid - all the smells of that day still lingered in her nose stronger than ever... _No guilt,_ he had said, whoever he was - she still hadn't found out, _you'll finally be free from the things you've done._

That was the only goddamn reason she had let him do it, for fuck's sake and the bastard had been lying! The only reason she had exposed her neck, biting back tears the pain caused and let herself die. Waking up in an abandoned storage two days later with fucking rats squeaking everywhere, covered in blood and dirt, smelling so horrible she had bent down and thrown up for good 10 minutes... yeah, for sure, it really wasn't what one could call an ideal way to start a new day. Just thinking about it brought the acid taste back to her throat – she had to swallow it down, gulping.

She saw the irony of it all, of course. Never trust strangers, no matter how fucking hot they are.

At least she had learnt something, you know. Not all of it had been waste of time - you can't escape the things you've done and you can't pretend you haven't always been the rotten piece of shit you are. Even when you were human.

_Gods, stop thinking about it, let go already._

What she really should've been thinking about was all the good, better things that it had brought into her life. If she hadn't been turned, she wouldn't have been there 6 years ago to save Gina from the fuckers that had attacked her family, ripped them apart to satisfy their hunger. Those fucking monsters... To Rhys and most of the Triad's members the war between the races had always been about humans and vampires, but she couldn't care less about those fucking creatures. Humans were at the bottom when it came to the food chain, they just hadn't accepted it yet.

No, it wasn't about humans. Ever since that day, she had killed every damn werewolf she had encountered. Murdered; suffocated, burnt, sliced – whatever hurt, she tried on them, always coming up with new and better – that meant slower and more painful, obviously - methods to kill them. The Triad didn't seem to appreciate her little hobby, of course, but she didn't give a fuck – not when it came to Gina. Those flesh-eating bastards were truly evil and deserved what they got. The Triad never interfered and she was glad. If they had made her choose... she wouldn't have chosen them. Not that she'd ever admit it to anyone, but Gina.

She sat up now, ignoring the sleeping man as if he held no meaning to her anymore.

The truth was... the fucker might have lied to her, but in a way, he had saved her too. Given her life a meaning. Wasn't that what everyone wanted? Wasn't that why humans had their false beliefs and ridiculous religions? Wasn't that why they had invented God?

Landing her toes on the cold floor beside the bed, she rose to her feet. Abandoning the warmth of the bed, she slowly walked towards the bedroom's only window to see what was going on outside, picking up his shirt along the way. She put it on, not bothering to button it up. Didn't really matter to her even if someone had seen her through the window – it was a rare occasion someone that actually mattered would walk around this area of the town. The shirt smelled like him; she draw in a breath, stretching her arms and letting a satisfied smile decorate her face as she sat down on the in-built windowsill. Most of her own clothes had vanished somewhere between the front door and the stairs last night, but his red collar shirt had been pretty fucking persistent and very unwilling to leave its master's skin. Hell, with his body, you really couldn't blame the piece of clothing, now could you?

Bending her head backwards and leaning against the wall behind her, she closed her eyes trying to relive the previous night in her head.

Yep. The smile twisted her lips into a wolfish grin.

Life was good right now.

**0000**

He had been awake for quite some time already, but the female vampire had still not sensed his eyes on her half naked body – it didn't surprise him one bit, though. She hadn't buttoned the shirt -his, he noticed, with a pleasure that waved south no matter how he tried to control it- at all and so, sitting there with one feet on the ground and the other bent against her beautifully shaped breasts, she looked like the most beautiful sculpture ever made.

She had always been beautiful in his eyes, he couldn't say otherwise, but during these mornings, she looked so much more than beautiful. Perfect. Just absolutely perfect, like a goddess sent from heaven… or, er, something.

Damn, that was so gay.

He knew she liked her ginger hair short and tidy, but yet it was long; free and wild, almost bushy in a way... and he knew why. Because _he_ liked it that way... and she remembered. If he had asked, she would've laughed no doubt, but it was comforting thought nevertheless, be it the truth or not.

He smiled, almost chuckling aloud, but she was still completely unaware of him.

There was another possibility too, though, but he didn't really like thinking about it. Maybe it wasn't about her wanting to please him… maybe it was only about her knowing and using every method there was to lure him into her little webs.

He couldn't be sure and fearing the answer wouldn't be the kind he wanted to hear, he didn't ask anything. Never had.

Without saying anything, he stared, half-wanting her to acknowledge him; feel him watching her. The mystery link between them had always been strong; she could very easily tell what emotions exactly were keeping his mind occupied, but he could rarely pinpoint hers. Normally she would already have noticed him, but when she got like that... she was galaxies away and not even his presence could fly her back.

It was so like her to space out like that, get lost within her own messy mind and forget everything around her. It annoyed him, always had. Sure, at the time she was safe and sound in his bed, but he wasn't stupid... He couldn't keep her there forever. He wanted to, yeah, but couldn't. Sometimes, even in the middle of a fierce battle, she would do the same; grow completely oblivious to the surrounding situation, only to be woken up by an attack of some kind. He never mentioned it to anyone else but her and their team mates usually put her accidents on the enemy's shoulders, but he knew the truth. Fuck, if Rhys had found out, she would've been off the field ages ago. Maybe he should've done it then, rat her out like a little kid and make Rhys do what he couldn't; put an end to her hunting hobbies. She was becoming a liability, but more than that, he was worried...

_You should get over her, you know?_

He was always worried when it came to her. Not because she could've got them all killed, but because she could've got herself killed. There was nothing he feared, nothing but losing her.

_You're such a pussy, Rufus. Pathetic._

Why the fuck did he always let her in? Why the hell did he open the door even when he could tell it was her? No one else appeared like that, knocked the way she did. Desperate and in haste. He always told himself she'd be ignored the next time, but she never was. Even if his mind told him to sit back down and pretend she wasn't there, his body seemed to respond to her in a way his mind couldn't prevent. It still didn't answer his question, though. Why did he let her use him like that, again and again? She hurt, made him bleed. Beg. Cry. Used his mind and body whenever she felt fit. Used and twisted, fucked things up.

Perhaps the real question wasn't why, but why not. She gave him pleasure, no matter what she did. Didn't matter whether it was her teeth or her tongue on him, everywhere, all hot and silky, it always felt so damn good. His body felt the pain, but his mind turned it into guilty pleasure, into lust... heat.

Or was that the male in his blood trying to justify his actions, make him sound cool and indifferent? Less whipped?

_Probably._

Whatever. He wasn't a blind, deaf, old man who couldn't get it up anymore, for fuck's sake. And he had his needs, just like she seemed to have hers. That was all there was to it, period. So maybe she was the only one who could fuck his head up so completely – who cared about that when she was also the best lay he had ever had?

… that and the only one who could make him feel so perfectly happy, even if just for a short moment.

That was his excuse. What made it right. Acceptable.

The blood had already dried on his skin, but the wound on his side was still sore and hurt whenever he moved a muscle. Why hadn't it heeled yet? When was the last time he had fed? He wasn't sure, never was when she was there. Yesterday... or the day before? If it hadn't known it would hurt, he would've massaged his temples to try and sooth the chaos inside his head.

Jesus Christ that woman.

_Like I said._ _Fucking pathetic._

He was about to say something both to catch her attention and to keep his own mind from insulting him all the time, but before he could speak, a noise was heard. Two of them, actually, but both in annoying unison that never promised anything good to come.

"Aww, fuck," he grunted drawing a pillow to cover his head... he knew all too well what that particular sound promised, especially when it came from two different sources like that.

"Where the fuck's my pager?" She asked coming to. Standing up she calmly scanned through the floor to find the noisemaker. When she couldn't locate her own pager right away, and since Rufus seemed to be his usual grumpy morning-self, she sighed and walked to the bed. He could feel the mattress move and shriek underneath them, when she landed down on the bed on all-four. Crawling to him, ignoring the whimper her knee on his back erupted, she reached over him and grabbed his pager from the nightstand. She checked the ID out of old habit although she automatically knew who would need them both at this hour. Finally the loud noise died leaving only a distant echo after it – ah, her own pager was somewhere near the stairs then. She could still hear it, but at least the beeping wasn't annoyingly loud anymore.

"Rhys," she declared putting the pager back on the nightstand and falling back to sit on her knees, hands resting on her lap, fingers playing with the helm of the shirt she had on. He grunted again, this time from the pleasure of being released from the painful position, but the pillow didn't move anywhere. She poked him with an index finger to get an reaction of some kind, but he neither said or moved.

"You hear me? It's Rhys," she repeated with a frown, "We gotta go... I'll go in first. Gimme 15 minutes, ok?"

Now the pillow was finally removed. With a rather violent move, too; he pushed it aside and by using his elbows to support his weight, he lifted his upper body from the mattress just enough to be able to glare at her over his shoulder. The glare was harsh and managed to hid the pain moving had caused. God, she had really pushed him around pretty hard this time.

As usually, somewhat unwanted sensation of anger bolted through her body in a rush and she knew exactly what had caused it. Every time the same fucking thing!

"Cloey... " he drawled a warning, highly annoyed, "Stop." He didn't want to hear it, not again. He could deal with her coming to him night after night and humiliating him the way she did, but these aftermath mornings he hated. If he had to choose, he'd rather been stabbed with a wooden stake through a leg or something if it could any way prevent this… It was absolutely wonderful to wake up with her sleeping beside him, have breakfast with her and kiss her goodbye when she finally found her way out through the door after many lame excuses why she couldn't stay any longer. What he hated were the mornings when he would wake up alone after she had cowardly ran away from him the first chance she got… or when their pagers would go off at the same time. Fuck, he hated it. That happened rarely, but whenever it did, it always ended the same way.

_When are you gonna grow up and be a man, Rufus?_

Fuck. It was probably what his friends would have asked too, you know, after laughing at him for days and days without taking a single break. Pissing their fucking pants while at it. Damned idiots, what did they know about anything anyway?

She shrugged, biting her bottom lip trying to find a way to say what she had to say, but without having to hurt his feelings any more than she had to. Plus, if she could go without having to deal with his anger and frustration, that would've been brilliant. She could already sense it, dammit, and she didn't feel like hearing the words, too.

"I know you dun like it..." she started with apologizing tone, not sure if she should get up, get dressed and get the fuck away or try and settle... lean forward and nibble his earlobe, "But we can't go there together. I dun... I dun..." Instead of doing anything, she did nothing. Maybe using her female ways on him after last night would be a bit unfair of her and even though she could be a bitch, she wasn't totally heartless. Plus, Cloey had her dignity, at least some of it, and stooping that low would undoubtedly erase the little she had.

"Want them to know, yes," he finished it for her, "I've gathered that much." Not wanting her to see the boiling look in his eyes, he turned to check the alarm clock, which stood peacefully on his nightstand next to the damned thing that had ruined his morning. Fucking pager. One of these days it would meet the cold, dark bottom of Atlantic Ocean simply for existing. For being so damned loud. And small. And annoying. And whatever other reason his heated mind could come up with. Not like the reason really mattered, anyway. The asshole would fly and drown.

"If they knew..." Cloey started and again, she was interrupted by his cold voice.

"Nothing would change," he said firmly. After this, it was impossible for him to fall asleep again and so, he stood up throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. Massaging his neck and trying to ignore the pain every move jolted, he draw in a deep breath. Besides, it was obvious he had a new job waiting for him so it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. Normally that would've been a good thing, it would've given him something to do and something else to think about, but he supposed this wasn't one of those times. Her pager told more than enough… yeah, it was hard to think about something else, when the one thing he didn't want to think about was working right there by his side.

Maybe Rhys really should find out, he pondered, it would at least be a hell lot of easier for him to get away from jobs that included her. Then again, as stupid as it was and as much as he hated it, he had to admit that during the time she had been working somewhere outside the borders of Neopolis, he had been fucking miserable. Not because he hadn't seen her or fucked her, but because he couldn't stop fearing she'd somehow get herself killed. At least when she was near and they were working together, he could constantly keep an eye on her. Boy, if she'd known that, he would've been kicked into the groin few times in a row.

_Better not tell her then, 'ay?_

"They would change," she whispered finally, almost as if she had been able to read his thoughts and had been just waiting for his mind to go silent again. She sounded so vulnerable saying it that he almost turned around and scooped her into his arms. Just almost, though. If he had turned out, he would've seen how the unbuttoned shirt revealed her milky white breasts and well, one thing would lead to another and she'd win as usual. Cloey knew how to use her voice and body to her advantage and for his misfortunate, he had realized it years later than he would have liked to. Refusing to recognize the weak feeling floating from her as genuine vulnerability, he twisted his head from one side to another to wake his body, trying to focus on something else but her for a minute.

"I refuse to be the target of their snickering and a subject of your little manly chats."

"Cloey-" He had been about to tell her she had got it all wrong, that the reason he wanted to tell the others about their, well, whatever it was, was because he hated sneaking around. Sneaking around, hiding in the shadows was what horny teenagers did or some filthy whores and their customers. He was a grown vampire for crying out loud and so was she! So fucking what if they ended up into same bed every once in a while? So what if they had known? It wasn't like sex was a taboo in the vampire world. Cloey wasn't stupid, she had to know they wouldn't give a shit about something like that - if something, they'd probably admire her for being able to keep her personal space - but before he could ask her to get a grip and stop lying to his face, he was promptly interrupted.

"-Who I fuck isn't their business!" She spat out so fiercely it startled him, "They dun need to know."

Okay… Jesus, how could she switch from end to the other that fast? Now her voice was full of anger, eyes throwing fire bolts at his direction. He didn't see it, but felt each and every electric bolt crashing his skin, burning.

"Fine," he breathed, beaten but still managing to sound indifferent. For whatever reason, he didn't feel so eager to continue this particular conversation anymore. It was making her upset and he didn't like it - partly because he could sense it radiating from her, doubling his own uneasiness and partly, because… he wasn't sure and he didn't want to analyze it. The results would probably be anything but flattering anyway.

She was lying, he knew it for sure, but he couldn't do anything about it by yelling and fighting. She had her reasons; he didn't understand them, because she had never bothered to enlighten him, but he was prepared to dig it out of her with any means necessary. Just not right now.

"Do whatever the hell you want," he barked and stood up while fetching his denim jeans from the floor. Absentmindedly he noticed it wasn't the same pair he had wore yesterday, but didn't bother to try and think how long they had been lying there on the floor next to a sweaty shirt or if they already smelled of dirt and dust. Days or months, who cared? The new gig would get them dirty eventually, no doubt about that one. Unless it was an easy one that included only locating and pulling the trigger, which was always nice and neat…. but knowing Rhys had decided to take Cloey in too, it didn't seem likely. Cloey and easy jobs never went hand in hand.

When he turned around with the jeans still in his hands, she still hadn't moved or said anything. Her gaze was fixed on her hands and for the first time in months, she actually didn't know how to go forward. He tried to focus his own eyes on the top of her head instead of her front. Getting a hard on while trying to prove his point, would be a perfect end to already humiliating night.

"I need a shower anyway," he said starting to walk towards the bathroom's door. He didn't sound angry anymore, just playful and that got her attention right away, "I may regenerate faster than the lot of you," he continued with a tender chuckle following the words, "but you were a handful yesterday, so."

Her surprised gaze rose to meet his eyes and she managed to squeeze a relieved smile when she noticed he truly had calmed down that quickly; she had expected a storm of the worst kind and was glad he had spared her.

"Sorry." She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for; the little argument that could've easily grown into full-fledged fight or the fact he had been hurt… again. The word had come out so automatically that she couldn't tell.

But he could.

"Sweetheart," he smirked, "only say it when you mean it."

_Although, in that case, you'd never say it, would you? _

She only watched how the beautiful, strong and slightly bruised behind disappeared into the bathroom and wondered in amusement when the hell she'd learn her lesson.

Or, she chuckled getting up from the bed while listening to him curse harshly as the cold water hit his sore spots, he, for that matter.

Probably never.

-fin.


	8. outcast

**Title:** LOST  
**Author:** syrai  
**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Series:** Envenom  
**Timeline:** post Chosen  
after 'weapon'  
**Characters:** original characters  
**Prompt:** #038 outcast  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** occasional curse words  
**Word count:** 2072  
**Status:** -fin as in finished  
**Summary:** She had _become_ a slayer...

**Author's Notes:** Well. Blah. Continued in the next prompt :)

**LOST**

As so many times before, the street seemed fairly abandoned at first glance, but after a bit more careful examination, it was easy to tell the difference. The street, it was anything but empty; she could sense them even though she couldn't see or hear them anywhere. Still, they were definitely there, lurking, hiding… trying to escape.

From her.

_Fuckers._

"Great," Rhian snorted in annoyance managing to suppress the loud and highly frustrated sigh tickling her insides, wanting to be expressed. If there was no one there trying to slit her throat and rape her, in said order most of the time, because they thought she was some naive school girl wandering around, trying to find the night's fuck, then there was only one thing it could mean.

They knew who she was. 

Well, naturally she had expected it to happen sooner or later, but she had honestly thought it would take a little bit longer for them to realise she was an actual threat instead of a fucking joke told in the safe houses' waiting rooms. Gossip from one nightwalker to another.

_Yeah, have you heard about that one bitch who runs around the city and tries to kill us? Fucking maniac. Yeah, yeah, that's the one. I heard her family got butchered and she's just trying to be the good little school girl she is, avenging their deaths. Doesn't know what's up against. I'd say, we go find her and have a good time with the little bitch…_

She had heard some of the first rumours that had circled around the city, but it hadn't taken more than few weeks for them to stop, completely… she'd honestly thought they'd stop talking after she had proved herself to be something more than just a fucking little school girl. Guess she should've known better.

Yeah, shit happens. It wasn't about her at all, was it?

No, she was ready to bet her _little_ fucked up head on that one. Okay, she had made a mistake... once again. Was it her fault she always underestimated Teagan and his right of determination? It was so fucking easy for him to lay his influence on others, to make them do whatever it was he he wanted them to. They feared him and had every reason to do so. He had the whole fucking Triad behind him, all their vampire power and resources and whatnot... but what the hell did she have?

Nothing. Nothing, but his favorite knife she'd stolen from him while packing her stuff and leaving. It didn't even begin to compensate all the pain and suffering he'd brought her and she hadn't expected it to, but at least it was something. She never let it out of her sight, not willingly, and strangely enough, it was comforting to feel it against her ankle, hidden by her brown boot, waiting to be reclaimed by its rightful owner.

And he'd come back, just as much for the knife as for her. She wasn't sure if that was supposed to flatter or insult her, and so she didn't really think about it.

Sometimes she felt he was already there, though. It seemed no matter where she went, he always found his way there too, but only few steps behind her. Was he playing with her? Letting her believe she was doing good, she was being fucking invincible and then, just like that, he'd come and grab her, lock her up. When she'd least expect it, he'd be there, laughing and mocking. Winning, again. False sense of security, maybe that was what it was all about.

She had credit them for a job well done; the Triad really knew how to train its little blood hounds.

Not that she had much from what to draw the said conclusion, since Teagan had always carefully kept that side of his life apart from their shared one. But she'd seen enough; she'd seen both Teagan and Finnegan in action and it'd told her pretty well what the Triad wanted from its members, how they were supposed to be. Plus, she'd met Rhys, once, and just that single meeting had spoken loud and clear.

The thing that bothered her the most was that if Teagan hadn't... if... she bit back the tears, refusing to cry for him. Never again.

The bottom line was, if he hadn't done it, betrayed her like that, she would've already been one of them. He probably didn't even realise it, fucking solange pissant.

She would've joined them, because it was the only option Rhys had given her and at the time, she would've done anything for her lover. Rhys had demanded a meeting and in the end Teagan had had no other choice but to finally bring her in to meet his boss. He'd been commanded to leave the room and he'd given her a hesitating look and she'd nodded, nodded even though she'd been so fucking scared. But she'd nodded, because she didn't want to cause Teagan any trouble and he had left the room after kissing her forehead gently.

During that meeting it had been made clear that Rhys was ready to make a deal simply out of respect towards Teagan. He'd explained sounding like a true professional how Rhian had nothing but two options. If she didn't join them and take an oath to always do what was best for the Triad, to serve and protect it, well, then they'd eliminate her with or without Teagan's consent.

If things had gone differently... _I would be one of those I hunt._

Glancing around, trying to catch a glimpse of something – anything at this point, really, just something to kill and slaughter to take her mind off things she didn't want to be thinking of -, but seeing nothing but empty bottles and papers rolling in the wind only fed her growing irritation.

It was fucking annoying; here she was, trying to kill the goddamned things and make a mess of their pathetic existences, but instead of defending themselves… instead of attacking her and trying to kick her pretty little traitor ass for all the things she had done to their kinds, to _her_ kinds, they kept running away the second they smelled her coming.

Why? 

_Because they are fucking cowards, that's why_, she snorted without voicing it... they run only because they knew. To the creatures of the night, she'd always be a slayer.

_Now you're giving too much credit for yourself, Rhian_, she pointed out bitingly.

Gods, if only she was so lucky... but of course she wasn't. It wasn't like Life to give the winning cards and she'd learn that lesson early. That's what her Mother had told her once. Made her cry by telling her she was a pathetic little whore who'd always be a loser and nothing but… and she, at the age of 7, had told her Mother to shut the fuck up, because she'd never, ever, end up like her mother.

You know what the best part was? The whole fucking punch line?

She had. Yeah. She'd ended up just like her mother and it'd been, yes, ironically, Teagan to pull her out of it, to buy her out from the street. The first man ever to love her for what and who she was. He could've gone and killed the guy who ran the business, but he didn't, because Rhian had asked him not to. The guy they'd all known as Frankie, he'd taken care of her, given her a place to stay and he'd never, not once, hurt her the way she knew many others alike her were hurt.

So, Teagan had ended up paying... and he'd paid a lot. Then again, Rhian knew he had money to spend. She'd never found out how fat his bank account was, but it didnd't really matter to her anyway.

It was funny how it always came back to him somehow, one way or another.

The thought of a rogue slayer gone wild wasn't what made the nightwalkers run for their lives. The simple truth was that she wasn't just a slayer, now was she?

She was _Teagan's_ slayer.

_His._

And there it was, the sole reason why she was still alive, why they rather ran away like chickens than faced her in a combat. She hissed, angry, not knowing her hiss didn't go by unheard.

If they had feared her, it would've been all good. It would've been just fine in fact. She would've laughed at them, laughed and laughed, and she would've felt proud. Joy and delight. But the fact they dared to run away from her because they feared Teagan, not her, and what he might do to them if his little slayer got hurt…

It was insulting, ok?

Did they not realise they weren't together anymore? Did they not understand that he would not have simply sat by and watched how his mate annihilated every nightwalker, every demon… every Triad member she encountered? Were they really that stupid and blind?

_Obviously._

God, they were all fucking idiots with no brains. How the hell had it come to this? Weren't these creatures supposed to be smart and cunning? Fearless? When had it changed? She didn't know... things had been bad for years, at least that's what Teagan had told her. Never had he told her why, though.

Hell, they were supposed to be rulers of all dimensions, at least that's what Teagan always liked to repeat. She wasn't so sure she believed all that "multiple dimensions" crap he always kept pouring on her, but she'd listened to his stories anyway. Partly because to her they were more like bed-time stories fathers' told to their children and partly, because of the way his eyes lit up every time he started telling some story, be it already told or some new fancy plot. Besides, the stories had always been interesting and funny, full of twists and action. One of her personal favorites was the old tale of Angel returning from hell dimension; it always cheered her up. Not the fact he'd returned, but the fact he'd been in Hell.

It didn't seem so amusing anymore. Angel had betrayed the vampires and gone to Hell for it, like he deserved... but what was she doing now, huh? Hell if she knew...

It was all so fucking confusing, ok?

But what she knew for sure was that if Teagan didn't want her around, then there was no reason for her to be one of the nightwalkers anymore. Or was there?

_No._

Okay, so she'd simply adjusted, found a new reason to be. Hey, at lesat now she was finally able to do what she was born to do. 

She had _become_ a slayer. Not in every sense of the word, but a slayer anyhow.

The word still tasted funny in her mouth, though, surreal. She, a slayer? It'd been a shock to her when she'd learnt why Teagan always kept calling her his little slayer and he'd really taken some time before telling her too, but she'd forgiven him, because she loved him. And because _slaying_ as he'd called it, couldn't possibly be worth losing him...

No, she had to stop thinking about him right now!

_Eyes on the prize, slayer._

Rhian whipped her head trying to chase away the rebellious lock of hair that had been bothering her eyes for quite some time. She could've always used her hands, but the other one was safely stuffed into her pocket, wrapped around her precious little colt (so what if it didn't kill everything, it still felt good to have it with her) whereas the other was lying against her side, squeezing her own beautiful knife.

_Jackal_ - her favorite.

She inhaled, deep, before releasing the air from her lungs and concentrating on the hunt again. But her moment of concentration was cruelly interrupted when she realised the echoing steps coming closer.

"Nice," a husky female voice said from behind, with relaxed laughter rolling out, and Rhian wasn't sure which one confused her more, the playful tone or the word she'd said, "it's a beauty isn't it?" the stranger continued, "Had one just like that. Loved it like a lover, too." 

-fin.


	9. yes

**Title:** IN THE CAGE  
**Author:** syrai  
**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Series:** Envenom  
**Timeline:** post Chosen  
directly after 'outcast'  
**Characters:** Faith, original characters  
**Prompt:** #051 yes  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** occasional curse words  
**Word count:** about 2545  
**Status:** -fin as in finished  
**Summary:** "Nice," a husky female voice said, "it's a beauty isn't it? Had one just like that. Loved it like a lover, too." 

**Author's Notes:** I freakin HATE when my comp crashes when I'm having a wonderful writing spree! I lose the same stuff again and again cause I always forget to save every two minutes, damnit. It does it, cause it's overheating and well, duh, I always get my writing-mood when it's like 6am which means the comp's been open for hours and hours at a time... my poor little laptop, it's getting old. I'd kick it to a wall if it wasn't so precious to me, seriously.

Like usually, the thing hasn't been betaed - and it's been written around 6am (well it's 8 at the moment and I'm not even finished with it) so suffer through or offer to beta it, your call. I'll try and fix some typos when my eyes can actually focus on something, again, oki?

::SQUEE:: One more and I've written 10. w00t :D

**IN THE CAGE**

Faith wasn't sure why she'd said it, told the vampire something so personal about her pretty little self. She never did that, ever. Even when she'd been a tot and someone had asked her something as innocent as favorite color, she'd rather picked up a fist fight then answered the question. Yeah, Faith really wasn't one to share her crap with anyone, not even when it was something as insignificant as the fact she had once loved her beautiful, beautiful knife like a mother loved her kid. 'Cept her mother, of course, she noted bitterly, but that ugly bitch had been one sucky mother anyway, so... and it wasn't like she cared about that or even thought about her. Much. Just sometimes.

Okay, that was totally beside the point.

Whatever the reason was, she'd said it - that she liked the _Jackal_, 'cause damn, she did, it was a true beauty in every sense of the word - and now the girl was looking at her like she'd been a green alien with antennas sticking out of her forehead, three legs and seven arms or something, obviously not knowing what to think of it. Which, Faith supposed as rationally as she could, wasn't that unexpected at all. She didn't know what to think of it either, so, they were even.

For fuck's sake, she'd only been trying to build up some bridge between them, ok?

_So enough with the damn stare, freak, it's creeping me out._

"I've been following ya..." Faith spoke up again, when the vampire didn't say anything, just stared at her all befogged. Woah, weird, she would've thought the vampire had attacked her already, but she hadn't even moved yet. Then again, she'd been following her around for two days now and seen a nice amount of evidence telling this girl wasn't your regular vampire with unstoppable lust for blood and shiny things.

Actually, if you thought it further, this one had a pretty good taste on several levels. The leather jacket for one spoke its own language; it was long, the kind Faith remembered B had worn sometimes and though B had her flaws, cool clothes had never been one of those. Then there was the knife, of course, the most beautiful thing Faith had ever seen. Plus, damn, what a kick-ass pair of brown cowboy boots! So hot. She _had_ to get a pair, really.

Right, right, wasn't she in the middle of something here?

"I mean, not in that creepy stalkerish way," she went on rambling, "Ya know, like... well, anyway..." With that, she shut up, twisting her mouth and trying to find a way to kick herself without being all too obvious.

_That went well, right? _

Hell, why hadn't those Illuminati freaks given her some guidelines on how to deal with the kind of issue that involved a slayer meeting a _turned_ vampire slayer, because it seriously wasn't a normal thing to happen. No, out of all the weird things she'd done in her life, this was like in the top three.

Watchers, they _always_ had these annoying rules and guidelines, fat books and lots of old, dusty prophesies to throw at you, but the one time you actually did need them... nada. God, what a twisted bunch of assholes. Useless, all of them! Reminded her - pretty efficiently too - why she'd never liked them, watchers in general, that much. They hadn't been too keen on her either, though, so maybe it was only fair.

It really was a wonder why Willow had chosen to go with the freaky lot and abandon her friends like that, you know, for them. It didn't bother Faith that much, but B, she'd been devastated. It'd been months since the two had even talked - the day Willow had left, she'd left with a bang, screaming at B what a fucking hypocrite she was.

Now Willow was in South Africa with Kennedy, but there'd been no calls, no letters, no nothing whatsoever on B's part. Willow had tried, of course, but B wasn't really accepting any of it, so it was left on Dawn's shoulders to keep the witch updated on what happened in their lives.

Seriously, though. When the hell had Willow ever supported humans co-existing with demons to begin with, huh? Okay, there was the thing with Oz, her former lover, being a werewolf and her being a witch and so on, but... still. Faith and B, they rarely agreed on, well, anything - even the question of what kinds of cereals they were to have for breakfast was a topic unsolved - but that was actually the one thing on which they _did_ agree. Willow had gone fucking insane.

_Well, if that's the case, then what are you doing here, stupid, playing their little messenger, huh?_ Yeah, hadn't she just joined the Illuminati - temporarily, of course - to track down this vampire girl? To, you know, bring her in, train her better and all that?

Although, who the fuck would want _her_ to train anyone? Hello? Hadn't they read her big, fat file? The one filled with red underliner, bad marks, failed tests and insulting reviews about her attitude towards authorities? Or was it the fact they didn't have anyone else fucked up enough to try and get in contact with this vampire girl? Figures, bunch of losers, as said.

_Moving on!_

The girl, vampire, slayer... hell, whatever, she still hadn't said a word, but Faith could tell her grip on the knife had suddenly gotten a lot, lot stronger. Faith wasn't sure if she should've been worried by now, but strangely, she wasn't. Worrying was usually waste of time, anyways.

Though, you know, maybe this was the kind of moment you were allowed to worry a little. It was the first _vamp_ vampire slayer she'd met, for one, and she had no damn clue what kind of power source the little fox was. Did this slayer also have a slayer's powers? Or since she was a vampire, maybe vampire's then? She couldn't have combined mix of slayer _and_ vampire strength, could she? That would suck so bad, because it would mean Faith could easily get her ass kicked by a freakin' vampire! Oh man. Not an ideal situation to be in, no.

Why hadn't she asked about these things, huh?

Seemed there was a lot of things she should've asked before taking off, but staying in their headquarters hadn't been her ideal of fun and therefore she'd done her best to keep it as short as possible. She'd gone there with the whole in-and-out policy... Sure, there'd been a few good-looking guys worth staying there, but come on, they were _watchers_ and Faith had already decided many years ago not to go physical, little less personal, with the type. It'd been nice visiting London, especially since it was rather vampire-free area due the fact it was the headquarters of many, many Councils (like the whole England, really), but to Faith, it'd still been a little too boring there. She'd missed the action.

But it didn't change the fact she felt a little ignorant now, standing there in the middle of the night with a vampire staring at down her like a piece of meat. Maybe this was why Giles always consulted his books before doing anything at all? Faith'd always thought it was boring as hell - being slayer was funnier when you had the chance to be impulsive and spontaneous, but... during moments like these, she was finally starting to see the error of her way.

_Shit!_

"What do you want?" The vampire piped up - _finally_ -, eyeing the other suspiciously. "I don't have any money if that's what you're after. And I don't do girls."

Faith blinked in surprise. Hola, hola, hola! Had the vamp just... God, no. "Hey, wow, let's back a bit there, 'kay?" She started, bringing her hands up into a defensive pose, "I ain't trying to find no hooker here, ok? Dun want your money, either."

Holy hell... Faith had experienced a thing or two during her years, sure, but it honestly was the first time a female vampire thought she was there to find a bed mate, alright. That was weird. Not really insulting, but definitely weird.

"Then what?" The vampire questioned incredulously, "Can't have the knife either, it's mine."

The fuck was wrong with this thing?!

"Yeah, whatever," Faith met, shaking her head slightly. She'd imagined their meeting to be many things, but this was nowhere near the visions her mind had played out. Blood, curse words, fighting... those were the kind of things she had expected to see and you know, compared to this, she almost missed all that stuff. At least she knew how to handle herself in a fight, and her partner too, but this kind of social occurrence...

Faith was starting to get a little nervous now. Or more like impatient. She wasn't used to this, this... chit-chatting with her opponent or whatever it was, not when they could've been fighting. Then again, with B in the same house, she'd been pop quizzed on that area more than enough...

"Look, I don't want anything from you," the brunette slayer tried explaining, growing bored, "and I'm not gonna try and hurt you, ok?"

"As if you could," the vampire served back bitingly. She didn't look so nervous anymore, not with the contemptuous expression shining all over her face.

_Bitch!_

"... If the situation wasn't the kind it was, I'd argue," Faith spoke, clearing her throat. Really, if the situation wasn't the kind it was, she'd have bitchslapped her to some exotic country, for sure, "but for your sake, I'll leave it at that."

The vampire snorted, but Faith chose to ignore it for now. If she'd picked on every word and sound the annoying slayer let out, they'd never get anywhere with the topic.

"Listen, maybe you've heard of me," Faith continued, "I'm Faith?" It was a question, rather than announcement, and the vampire frowned.

"You know, Lehane?" Faith added carefully, hoping to add some fuel to her memory "Known as the bad-ass rogue slayer? From Sunnydale? Buffy's friend? The one who went cockoo for awhile? Ringing any bells?" Man, what was it gonna take?! "The hot and sexy one?"

The vampire's eyes lit up out pure curiosity, telling the slayer the black hole had now been filled. She sighed.

"The one who broke out of jail?" The vampire questioned, excited.

"Yeah, well," Faith shrugged, "had a friend to help."

Yeah, figures, that was the one thing they remembered about her. That and what she knew would be a follow-up question next...

"Angel?" And there it was. _Angel._ "Is it true then?"

Faith felt like snorting out her frustration. Funny how it was always Angel or Buffy Summers. Or if not them, then it was about William the Bloody! God forbid anyone asking about someone else but the trio there. For real, when had someone stopped Buffy just to ask her about the infamous Faith, huh? Probably never, she figured. Not that she was bitter about it, you know, it was just that... she'd been there too, standing on the Hellmouth, killing the fuckers, just like B. The Sunnydale's slayer hadn't saved the world all by herself and it was annoying everyone seemed to forget that tiny lil piece of fact. There'd been a bunch of girls there by her side, of which many had lost their lives, but did anyone remember those young heroines? _NO._ All they ever cared about was the famous Summers.

Faith had learnt to care about the slayer, but still she hadn't figured out what it was that made Buffy Anne Summers so goddamn special. What was it about that scraggy girl? She had fought her destiny, refused to be a slayer and yet she was everyone's idol. Where was the sense in that?

A sound of cat meowing a warning somewhere near, brought Faith back to the moment. "Yeah, listen, I'd love to stay here and chat with ya, but these creeps out here really dun fancy me. So, could we like go find some place where we could talk?"

The other slayer just kept gawking, which was really starting to get on Faith's nerves. It was one thing to stand there out in the open if they were expecting a fight, but right now, she wasn't in the mood. No, strike that, she was in the mood - anyone would be after talking to _her_, but it wasn't the right time nor the place for that.

"Why would a slayer want to talk to me? You want to dust me, don't you?"

Fine, Faith couldn't blame her. If she'd been in the vampire's shoes, she was so sure she wouldn't have believed herself either, so.

"If I'd wanted that, you'd be dust."

"Don't count on it," the vampire snorted back and suddenly, Faith grinned. Couldn't accuse the girl for not having self-confidence, that was for sure.

_Familiar attitude, much?_

She smiled. 

_Could be._

Well, at least it was finally opening to her why they'd sent her there instead of some book-worm watcher. Maybe they did have something in common after all, besides the slayer blood, that was.

"Obviously you're familiar with my rep," Faith replied, letting the biting remark go unnoticed, "but not with my ego. One way or another, we should talk. I really dun wanna hurt you. Illuminati, they sent me."

"Why?"

_Wish I knew._

The truth was, even Faith wasn't sure - but it wasn't like she could've told the girl that. She'd been wondering it too, though. Ah, one more thing to add to the list of 'should've asked, didn't ask' - it was starting to be one long list, alright. Too bad her usual work philosophy didn't support the massive back ground studying.

So, instead of the plain truth, she had no other choice, but to tell her the conclusion she'd come to. 

"Because," she started heavily, "no matter how fucked up things are or how fucked up _you_ are, you're still a slayer, Fielding. And well, seems you've been slaying lately. I guess they figure you'd be more useful under their wing than randomly killing stuff on the streets." Faith paused to observe her face and when it seemed she was actually listening, she continued sighing, "Seriously, can we go somewhere and just talk? I swear, cross my heart and hope to die and all that mambojambo, I won't hurt you."

"Not likely," the vampire grinned back. 

"... So not gonna get into that," Faith snorted back, but with a smile tugging her lips.

The vampire was grinning. A real, genuine grin. That was a good sign, Faith noted with much pleasure. Looked like they were actually heading towards something else than a royal bitch-fight... at least that was what the contemplating look on her face told, which was why Faith chose not to say anything more, but to simply wait and see how it would turn out. Sometimes silence was the best way to go, she'd learnt that too. 

"Ok, fine," the vampire gave in finally, after several moments of self-reflecting and random pondering, "I know a place. Come on."


	10. candle

**Title:** STUPID GIRLS  
**Author:** syrai  
**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Series:** Envenom  
**Timeline:** post Chosen  
after 'outcast'  
**Characters:** Faith, original character  
**Prompt:** #043 Candle  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** occasional curse words  
**Word count:** about 3155  
**Status:** -fin as in finished  
**Summary:** Woah, icy. If Faith didn't know better, she'd say someone's acting like a fucking 10-year-old.

**Author's Notes:** Ok, it was Faith's beautiful, beautiful Jackal that Buffy stuck into her guts during that pretty fight of theirs, right, right?

Not my best writing, but I'm tired and I just wanna get this done, meh. So suck it up... woah, that sounded dirty.

Heh, anyway, since it's only F reading this (ah, my beloved fan, erp) I'll edit later, ok::sigh::

**STUPID GIRLS**

The room's only source of light is the blue candle standing in the middle of the round, wooden kitchen table.

She lets her hand travel through the fire, but it doesn't hurt. The flames touch her skin barely enough to warm it and so she does it again and again, all the way until she actually feels the warmth against her finger tips. That's when she finally pulls her palm away, placing her hands against her cheeks while supporting them with her elbows against the table.

Faith sighs.

She isn't sure, but she thinks she was around 7 or 8 when she first saw some other kid do it in the yard where they used to hang. Saw him play with the fire, you know, sweep a hand through the flame of a small lighter as if the fire wasn't even there. She'd been amazed by the trick, by the magic of it and naturally, wanted to try it herself. Plus, she remembers vaguely that the guy, who'd been a few years older than her by the way, he'd said something about a kid like her not being able to do it.

Hell, Faith never refuses a challenge.

She tried it alright, but at home, with a much bigger candle, too and ended up burning her hand in the process. Mom's boyfriend of the week - Cam, was it? Or was it Earl? - took her to a hospital nearby to get the hand checked whereas mom...

Faith shrugs.

Well, truth be told in all its ugliness, she can't even remember what mom said or if the bitch was home at the time to witness the little incident. Probably wasn't, not that she would've gone to the hospital with her daughter even if she had been, but, anyway. What the slayer remembers is what happened after she'd got home from the said hospital, though.

Faith still has a scar on her abdomen to prove it.

_A nice little reminder._

The plastic garden chair (green, or at least it used to be) underneath her feels annoyingly uncomfortable, really not the kind to be used in the kitchen like this, and she figures it, plus its equally pathetic mate (the only other chair in the room), probably were the best Rhian could find without having to pay herself sick. Or without being found.

The first thing you have to remember when being an outlaw is to never use your credit card, so.

Faith sighs, again, adjusting her position a little. Hell, the chairs are probably older than Giles, so no wonder it's like sitting on a cement. Oh well, tough shit. Still, she doesn't bother moving again in order to ease the evil ache threading to stiffen her ass... and everything else all the way to her ankles.

_Much good would that do anyhow._

Faith doesn't know when it happened exactly, but lately, she's noticed she's turned into a bit of a pessimist somewhere along the _joyful_ ride. She wasn't like this before, was she?

Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't. She for one doesn't know or care, and so she just sits there in utter silence, staring at the flame; watching how the blue heart plays with the many colors of orange.

It looks pretty, sure, whatever, real fascinating, blah blah and all that crap.

Why is that people always rant about fire being so beautiful?

Faith doesn't see it like that... well, just that, after the whole I'll-stick-my-hand-into-the-fire-and-watch-it-burn-incident, she's always regarded fire more like a foe than a friend and so staring at it, making sure it won't go and jump on her simply feels safer than turning her back on it.

Rhian's taking a shower, or something, she doesn't know, but the vampire locked herself into the bathroom half an hour ago mumbling something indefinite and Faith heard water running a lil while ago. She could be taking a bath of course, but hell, who the fuck would attempt such a radical act in this kind of shit-hole-apartment? Faith's pretty sure the only kind of water one can get out of these damned taps is brown. Always fucking brown, damnit.

It's been a month, ok, and that's the only kind of _stuff_ she's gotten. There's just something very fucking wrong in one's life when even inanimate objects, like houses, start spitting shit on your face. Sad, sad thing.

She sniffs and out of habit, briefly wipes her nose with her over-length sleeve that has been stretched around her freezing fingers. It's cold, too freakin' cold to be off bed, and the chapped, thin fabric of the shirt doesn't really help. Guess Rhian, being a vampire and all, doesn't really feel the need to pay any attention to the fact the place where she's staying is as warm as a fucking fridge in Siperia. She meant to say something last night, after they got home from the most recent hunt, but it totally slipped her mind.

Come on, no one's cold after a hunt. Faith the least.

Anyway. A lonely fly is buzzing somewhere around her head; annoying little bastard. She glances up, but the fly is swallowed by the darkness. You know, the lighting in there really isn't the best, either. That's probably why she didn't even try and turn the lights on when they got home today.

But then, Faith doesn't mind the soothing darkness so in the end, it's fine. Ever since being a kid, she's always liked being in the dark by herself. Hiding in the closet, trying not to listen to your mom fighting or fucking some jerk, with only your own raging thoughts accompanying you, it really makes a difference, huh?

Maybe _that's_ why she didn't turn out to be the next Buffy, you know?

And why the fuck has she been thinking about _her_ so much lately?

"We should get the lights checked," Rhian says suddenly, starting the slayer who was too deep in her own thoughts to realise the vampire has finally returned the small room with perfectly dry hair. They call it kitchen, but in reality, it's the only room 'sides the bathroom the household holds inside. Kitchen, living-room, bedroom, all in the same. There's a single bed farther behind Faith's back, the kind that keeps creaking with every damn move you make, no matter how light or careful. Then there's the old, buckled sofa next to it, which has been occupied by Faith for the passed days.

God, new sheets would be super.

"Maybe so," Faith replies breathing out and drops her left hand flat on the table, all the while turning her head to look at the vampire on the right. She takes a moment before she continues with a hand muffling her voice slightly, "Don't think we should stay here for long."

The vampire frowns and twists a hand to her back in order to scratch from underneath the shirt, revealing a fair amount of white skin. It doesn't look like the most comfortable pose, but hey, when it itches, someone scratches.

And _man_, that belt. Faith's been trying to snag it from the vampire ever since she first laid eyes on it, but it's proven to be a bit more difficult task to go through with than first anticipated. The damned creature seems to adore that particular belt as much as Faith would, if it only was hers... Such beautiful color of beige with this _beautiful_ clasp shaped like a dolphin.

Ok, fine, so she's a softie. Faith happens to _like_ dolphins, big deal.

_Go screw yourself._

"Where would we go?" Rhian asks then, straightening her shirt before closing the bathroom's door and therefore producing a faint click as the lock takes it place. It sounds unnaturally loud in the otherwise quiet apartment and it makes Faith jump. The belt stops flashing itself in front of the slayers eyes like a fucking tease, and so her mind returns on the other, more important issues.

_One of these days, though, one of these days..._

Licking on her bruised bottom lip to mend the healing wound, Rhian takes a step closer. The plastic chair whines as the vampire grabs it firmly and pulls it from underneath the table to sit on the damned thing.

_Holy Jesus,_ Faith hates the freakin' sound its legs make as the vampire drags the chair, but she doesn't say anything. She's not about to whine, you know, not her style. For some reason, in her mind, it'd be almost like admitting your weaknesses to an enemy. Right, not a smart move, nuh huh.

"I dunno," Faith shrugs after Rhian settles on the seat, "anywhere. It's not safe here."

Usually the slayer likes danger, but somehow, it doesn't seem that tempting this time. Not this kind of danger, anyway. Honestly, she should've forced the vamp's pretty little ass away from _Neopolis_ days ago, but that would've required a fight and as much as Faith loves to throw punches, she, strangely enough, doesn't wanna throw them at Rhian.

Probably 'cause there's a chance she would get punched too if that was to happen.

"Don't you think I know that?" Rhian snaps in a way that tells Faith she hit a soft spot there. And, well, a one soft spot always means there is another to be found - where there's smoke, there's usually a fire - and she'd rather find them all as soon as possible. So much easier to control things when you know all the short-cuts and detours.

"Sometimes I think you dun," the slayer says, eyes fixed on Rhian in challenging manner. She's trying to find some clue telling what's on the vampire's mind, and the target of examination doesn't seem to notice her intentions. 

Faith doesn't continue speaking, it's not needed, 'cause reading the girl isn't that hard at all. This particular vampire, she owns the kind of eyes that seem to speak out loud 24/7 in ten different languages. Yeah, it's a good thing the owner herself hasn't realised it yet and Faith's so not gonna tell her. What, why the fuck would she? Not when the slayer clearly benefits from it.

Like now, for example, the eyes are telling there's something big that the vampire is trying to hide. She looks like she'd want to turn her gaze away, hide her face or something, but it's simple pride that keeps her from doing so.

Faith knows that pride, recognizes it all too well in fact, and if she didn't think she'd have to explain herself, she'd laugh.

Although, from another point of view, it actually sucks pretty bad. 'Cause the girl is obviously keeping a dark secret all to herself, as said, and Faith, she doesn't appreciate it all that much. No, she's not fond of the fact she's yet again being mistrusted.

She honestly had enough of that shit with B the first time around and really isn't looking forward to play the same old game again. Seriously, what good did those secrets do, huh?

She came to the conclusion scoobie gang wasn't her thing and it all ended with B stabbing her guts with Faith's own knife.

... not to mention the fucking coma.

_Exactly._

"Well, I do know," the vampire claims with venom, but somehow it seems she's more than anything trying to persuade herself, not Faith.

And Faith knows this.

Through the first week Faith wondered why she took up the offered job, knowing perfectly well how B felt about Illuminati. How badly it, for sure, would tick the slayer off. So, yeah, why did she do it?

Besides wanting to shake B up a little? Sure, most of the time she went through a day doing exactly what B wanted, living up to all the expections that had been about to suffocare her. But a fact was, if Summers was gonna have yet another go at being apathetic and depressed, there was no fucking way Faith could be blamed for it, not even a little.

But every other day she felt the _need_ to protest, be it stupid or not.

Still, she isn't exactly sure why she decided to go through with it, but Faith has a theory now. It took a day or two for the slayer to figure it out, but nevertheless, a theory she has.

One that _doesn't_ involve Buffy freakin' Summers. Praise the Lord.

There's simply something about this girl that makes Faith look back upon the things she's done, you know, relive her history act by act and it's not always pretty. At times it's damn annoying, especially when there are so many other things she should be thinking of.

But she can't help it, no matter how badly she decides to drop the subject, it just keeps enrolling itself. Without even trying Rhian simply makes the slayer go and pinpoint all the moments that defined the course of her life, the moments that moulded the true Faith Lehane. All the fucking 'what ifs' she never really bothers to think about 'cause it's nothing but waste of time. Yeah, all comes flooding the minute her mind turns to Rhian.

So, the theory.

_"The girl is a slayer. Angry. Lost and alone. Killing everything that moves."_

Ha, she feels so smart now. Perhaps she said 'yes' that day because even then she somehow _knew._ Knew they'd have something in common with this lost and lonely creature. 'Sides the obvious, that is.

At times, life sucks. Clean and simple.

"Sometimes, ya know," Faith starts silently, not wanting to hurt her feelings any more than necessary, "I'm thinking you wanna stay here cause you just wanna sit on your ass, wait and see if _he_ comes back to collect you."

It's weird, isn't it? Faith knows she's grown as a person, B's told her so, but it's actually the first time she doesn't want to raise a fight or willingly hurt someone's feelings. The first time in a long time she doesn't feel it necessary to speak out her mind just for the sake of being heard. With Dawnie it's normal, she's a kid and despite the customary belief, Faith isn't into hurting kids' feelings.

But Rhian's not a kid. She's a fucking vampire! A big gap there between the two.

"Collect? I'm not a fucking _thing_."

A few years back, Faith would've disagreed with the sour vampire. Now she just shrugs.

"Whatever," the slayer dismisses immediately, a presumptuous smile playing with her mouth, "Then you dun mind if we take off tomorrow, do you?"

Rhian's eyes gleam when she drops the acid words on her companion. "No, I don't."

_Oh God, grow up._ It's a lie and Faith can hear it. Hell, she'd hear it even if she was deaf and blind and on another continent. It's pathetic (and almost sad), the way Rhian's so hang up on her sire and former lover... even after what that fucking asshole did to her.

Bye bye self-respect, welcome slavery.

For sure, if Rhian's not a _thing_, he most certainly is, and there's not a damn thing anyone can say to change Faith's mind on this one. No. Honestly, if she ever runs into that jerk, she'll kill the guy in a half of a heartbeat.

Not because he's a vampire, but because of what he did to her.

"Good," Faith drawls in smugly.

"Fine," Rhian shoots, snappish.

Faith's lips breaks into an amused, yet a little surprised smile. Woah, icy. If Faith didn't know better, she'd say someone's acting like a fucking 10-year-old. It seriously isn't like Rhian to start _biting_ down like that. Well, not with words anyway. She's more into physical kind of biting, imagine that.

She's actually tried to bite Faith a few times already, but both of those times were because the vampire was famished and Faith was stupid enough to stay around.

Lesson well learned: when the vampire is starving (keeps staring at you like a dog in heat, makes these nasty hissing noises and slight drool involved) the girl goes out to have some solo fun-time and the vampire stays in. Or then the girl fetches food, either way, staying in the same room with the needy creature ain't no option.

"Bitchy, much?" Faith's voice is dripping with entertainment, which doesn't particularly please Rhian - when she's miserable, Faith's supposed to be too, "You hungry or something?"

To that, Rhian sighs, giving in. What the hell, might as well admit it. It's at least half the problem here.

"Yes."

Not her fault hunger makes her edgy, damnit.

Without any explanations, Faith grabs the edge of the table, pushes the chair back and gets up all the while succesfully hiding the amused smile that seeing Rhian pout like a caught teenager caused just now. For a minute the only thing Rhian can actually see is her round bottom peeking from behind the opened door, but after a moment or two, the girl finally straightens her back again and slams the door shut with an apologizing grimace. 

Right, Rhian knows that face - it'd been Faith's turn to _shop_, then.

"Okay," Faith states and leaning against the humming fridge while pulling her sleeves to cover her fingers better, "seems there's nothing in the fridge, besides cheese, which I'm guessing won't help here, and we've already agreed on the fact my neck is off-limits, so..."

Rhian snorts, not at all surprised. Most of the time the fridge has nothing but a piece of cheese, butter and dim light, if even that. Trust it be completely empty when it was Faith's turn to fill it up, though.

"Bank it is, then," the vampire translates with a roll of eyes.

"I'll come with you," Faith offers, "Not much to do here and you know," she continues smiling, "might run into something fancy."

Ah, of course, it's all clear now. "Fancy?" Rhian gives a laugh, "Your new pretty word for 'me wants to kill'?"

Faith's already walked to the sofa where her jacket was thrown earlier that day. "How'd you know?" She smirks, pulling the thing on before uplifting her hair to release it from the trap formed by her neck and the jacket's high collar.

_Yeah,_ she rolls her eyes again, _how indeed._

"By the way," Faith says suddenly turning to look at the vampire sharply when they're both already out the door in the dark hallway, "the next time we're gonna pick a place where I dun fucking freeze, ok?"

"Whatever, crybaby."

Only after the door's already closed, Faith notes it didn't even cross her mind to blow the candle out. Weird.

Plus; man, if Dawn were there, she'd be dead now.

_Yeah, well, whatever._

A matter of a fact is, she isn't. But Rhian is and so, who really gives a shit? Not like neither of the two cares if the place decides to burn to ashes while they're gone. They're leaving tomorrow, anyway.

fin.


End file.
